


Why Birds Fly

by nicciguinea91797



Series: The Brighter Place [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Demisexuality, Depression, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magic, PTSD, Pansexual Character, Romance, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 95,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicciguinea91797/pseuds/nicciguinea91797
Summary: Four troubled young men accidentally change their lives in an extraordinary world.





	1. Within The Past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JetBlvckPhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetBlvckPhan/gifts).



_ The world is consistent. When you look up, you’re always going to see the sky. Maybe a few clouds; maybe a few birds. Perhaps a plane will be passing through, leaving a trail of puffy smoke behind it. These are all things that people expect. It doesn’t bring a smile to anyone’s face. It’s consistent with average life.  _

_ Take the bustling city streets of New York. As much as people try to say otherwise, this is consistent as well. People are all moving at the same fast pace to wherever it is they think they need to go. Homeless people are sitting on corners, doing their best to earn a couple bucks. Let’s not forget the street performers. When you see them, maybe you think ‘hey, something different.’ But, is it really? Even the songs tend to have all the same vibe.  _

_ From where I’m sitting in this uncomfortable, outdoor, coffee shop chair, nothing is different. Everyone that walks in and out of that shop is the same. Based on the time, I’d say they’re all college students on their way to class. Some of them have workdays that start a little bit later than most, and that’s where they’re heading. But they’re all here because they’re tired. They all have the same frown on their faces; the same grimace as they walk back out into the December air. Maybe, they’re all a little bit tired of consistency. Just like me. _

Emmett Grey stares down into his black coffee with disdain. The flavor is bland, just like everything here. As he looks around at the outdoor seating section of this coffee shop, he thinks  _ it  _ is bland as well. There are no colors jumping out at him; nothing that makes him want to stop and appreciate the sights. To him, there are no sights. There is nothing worth looking at. Not even the people walking into the coffee shop seem to catch his eye. Not the woman in the miniskirt and tights, clearly desperate for attention. Not the man in the neon green jacket, his hair up in a bun. Even the occasional, loud child doesn’t draw Emmett’s attention. This world, this life, it’s all very tiresome to him. Compared to where he’s from, New York city is the most black and white, boring place he’s ever been. Unlike his home, colors don’t stand out here. There is no bright reds, or blinding yellows. The blues don’t shimmer, and the green’s don’t shine. Through Emmett’s eyes, there doesn’t seem to be any color at all. Where he’s from, even the people glow with color. 

He leans back in his chair, annoyed. He doesn’t know what he expected to find here. He doesn’t know why he’d have expectations at all. Maybe because of the reviews, he thought that the coffee would perhaps have just a little bit more flavor. He shakes his head in distaste, and slides the coffee cup a foot away from him on the table. With a sigh, Emmett grabs the small backpack he always has with him, and slings it across his shoulder. As he’s standing, he catches the sound of the shop door bell chiming. Instinctively, he turns to face the sound, and when he does, he stops dead in his tracks. 

The person that walks out of the coffee shop now doesn’t appear to be older than 18. They’re holding two cups of coffee, and they’re bundled up in multiple layers of jackets. They have a strange expression on their face, like they’re trying to solve a math equation that Einstein himself made up. None of that is what really catches Emmett’s eye, though. It’s the bright, red, curly hair, the soft pink coloring their face, and the glow. Radiating off of this person is a very familiar glow that Emmett has seen on countless other people. But, not here. Not in this place. Not in this world. 

Emmett glances at the other people around the coffee shop, and he sees that a lot of them notice the person as well. They only look over at them for a moment, but he can see it in their eyes. This person stands out. More than anyone else they’ve seen. Emmett looks back at the person, who’s quickly hurrying down the street. He can’t see their face anymore, but it doesn’t matter. Because, his brain has already put two and two together. This person cannot be from here. And if they’re not from here, they’re not from this world; from Earth. They have to be from where Emmett is from. The place where people have that glow.

But, if they’re from there, why are they here? Shouldn’t Emmett have recognised them? There’s only one explanation, and Emmett had always assumed that it would be impossible. What are the chances? Is this person a hundred times more important than anyone else from Emmett’s world?  _ There’s only one way to find out,  _ Emmett thinks, and then he begins walking along the same path that the strange, glowing person took.

* * *

 

Avery Brooke’s eyes are fixed on the pavement as he walks down the familiar sidewalk. Normally, he’d pay more attention to where he was going, but since he’s walked this way every day for about 4 months, his mind is elsewhere.

It’s been an especially bad day. A year ago, it would’ve been a challenge to put Avery in a bad mood. He’s one of those optimistic types that always finds something good to say in any situation. With a smile that can light up a room and a contagious laugh, it was hard not to feel the joys of life around him. However, ever since the death of Daniel Brooke, his brother, these bad days have become very frequent. The kind of day where the air feels too heavy, and the slightest inconveniences makes him want to scream. 

Though it has only been 5 months since Avery found Dan on the floor of their apartment, Avery’s fighting through the pain like it’s been years. This is mostly for the benefit of his best friend, Michael Foster. The story of Avery and Michael’s friendship is a weird one, and one that was never fully explained. Ever since they were babies, they have both lived under Dan’s custody. Even though he was only 14 when they were born, he was the only one that ever took care of them. Avery never understood why there wasn’t anybody else in the picture. He’s never met his parents, or even seen pictures of them. When he asked, Dan would never give him an answer. Because Avery is his brother, it made sense that Dan cared enough about him to raise him. But, he’d always wondered how Michael ended up being with them as well.

Avery’s step falters, and the wind is suddenly knocked out of him by the pain in his chest. He almost loses hold of the coffee cups in his hands, and he leans against a lamp post to keep himself steady. The memory of his brother is too much. Almost every time, it breaks him. He loses control over himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, counting in his head. After a moment, he pretends that it somehow made the pain go away. When he opens his eyes, he sees strangers looking at him with odd expressions, but he ignores them. He pulls himself together, and begins walking again.

In the back of his head, Avery knows that he should let himself break down. It’s the healthy thing to do, but he won’t. Not after he’s fought so hard to push everything back. He doesn’t want to disappoint Michael; his only family left. And considering Avery’s on his way to Michael’s work right now, he wants to at least appear to be in a decent mood.

That’s why this this city street has become so familiar to Avery. Over the last few months, he has dragged himself out of bed, into the cold, down to the Mo’s cafe near their new apartment to get Michael and himself some coffee a few hours into Michael’s workday. Then, he walks a couple blocks over to the sandwich shop, where Michael works, to pick up the premade sandwich that Michael always has prepared for him. It’s a pretty great system if he’s being perfectly honest. Maybe he’d enjoy more if Dan were around to laugh about how well Avery and Michael know each other. 

As Avery stops next to the shop doors, he heaves a sigh. He used to think that maybe, after time passed, it would get easier to face Michael everyday. Maybe, Dan wouldn’t haunt him so much during every task he tries to accomplish. Now, he knows, that he was wrong. He’s just gotten used to pretending. Avery moves one of the cups he’s holding to his elbow, forces a content expression on his face, and pulls the door open.

The forced smile on his face changes into a small, real one when he steps into the shop and his eyes find Michael. It has always amazed Avery how comfortable his best friend is in this environment. From behind the counter, Michael is chatting with a customer while ringing him up, a confident smile on his face. Over the chatter in the room, he can’t hear what Michael is saying, but as the customer turns away, he sees that she’s laughing. Michael has always had a way with people while he’s working. Even if someone is having the worst day of their life, he can squeeze at least a chuckle out of them. A while ago, Avery had asked about this, but Michael only shrugged it off. 

This wouldn’t be so interesting to Avery if Michael was always confident like this. But, he’s not. As Michael was growing up, he developed a panic disorder that affected every aspect of his life. When he turned 13, Dan finally had to take him to the doctor, because Michael wasn’t getting out of bed without having a breakdown. Later, they learned that he was actually having panic attacks, and he had a severe mental problem. When he was prescribed anxiety medication, he finally started to get better, and he was able to go through life normally. When he turned 16 and applied for a job, though, Dan completely lost it. He was terrified that Michael would be taking on too much, what with school and all, and they had a fight that lasted way too long in Avery’s opinion. Eventually, Michael convinced him that he was fine with his meds, so Dan let him apply. Obviously, Michael was right, because he thrives at work. His anxiety doesn’t even seem to be a problem. 

After watching the satisfied customer leave the shop, Avery walks to the check-out counter and announces himself by loudly setting the coffee-cups down. Michael, who had already noticed Avery when he entered the store, grins at him. 

“Is that the Caramel Macchiato?” Michael immediately asks, already picking up the cup gratefully.

Avery rolls his eyes, “It is always the Caramel Macchiato. Do you have my sandwich?”

While sipping through the straw in his coffee, Michael turns to the other side of the counter and picks up an already made, wrapped sandwich. He sets it down in front of Avery, who presses his hands to the warm bread. He still has a chill from the winter weather, not to mention the cold thoughts inside his head. 

“Hey, you doing okay?” Michael asks after a second, picking up on Avery’s mood automatically.

Avery meets his gaze, then casts his eyes back down to the food. It was too hard to keep it together while staring at Michael’s concerned face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Avery mumbles, managing to keep his voice light. 

Anyone else would let the subject drop. Avery’s gotten pretty good at hiding how he really feels, but Michael isn’t just anyone. He has known Avery his whole life, and he wasn’t about to be lied to.

With a sigh, Michael turns to Roseanne, his coworker cleaning the counter next to him, “I’m taking my break, okay?” 

Roseanne nods, hardly listening, and Michael turns away from her and walks down to the part of the counter that lets employees out. Now on the customer side, he walks back over to where Avery is still standing with an innocent expression and takes his arm. He takes Avery to the table closest to them and sits him down before taking the seat opposite him. Michael leans forward across the table, locking eyes with his best friend with an almost, angry intensity. 

“Avery, you have got to stop doing this,” he starts, emphasising each word, “I know that you’re not okay. Can you please talk to me?”

Avery leans back in his chair with a sigh, folding his arms over his chest. He keeps the casual expression on his face, and as much as he wants to, he doesn’t let his eyes move from Michael’s.

“Mike, I’m fine. Seriously. Stop worrying about me so much,” Avery says, and Michael hears the strange determination in his tone. It’s as if, as he says the words, he’s willing them to be true. 

Michael narrows his eyes, trying to force a different answer out of the other’s mouth with his mind. Then, he lets his gaze drop to the table with a sigh. As much as he wants Avery to open up about how he’s really feeling, he doesn’t want to push too hard. He has no idea what will happen if those doors open. He could break even further than he’s already been broken. 

“Okay,” Michael huffs in frustration, letting his back hit his chair.

Avery raises his eyebrows, “Okay?”

“Yes. Fine. New topic; did you find a job yet?” Michael relents, folding his arms across his chest. 

Avery frowns, letting his eyes drift down to his coffee. He hesitates answering the question by taking a long sip. Then, he mumbles a quick, “No.” 

Michael’s face softens as he stares at his friend, and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from telling Avery he doesn’t have to do anything. He remembers the day that Avery announced that he wanted to get a job. It had shocked Michael, to say the least. It was two months after Dan died, and Avery was still having trouble getting out of bed. Michael could see the determination in Avery’s eyes, mixed with the weariness and depression that still hasn’t gone away. He told Avery that he thought it was a bad idea, but Avery wasn’t having any of it. For some reason, he thought having a job would make him feel better, and he wasn’t going to let Michael convince him otherwise. But, three months later, he still hasn’t had any luck. Everytime Michael asked about it, Avery would just say that he hasn’t found the right place yet. Michael could see the indecision in his eyes, though. Avery is forcing himself do something he’s not ready for.

“Okay, well,” Michael implores, “why don’t you take a break from job hunting? Y’know, just relax for a while.”

“No,” Avery immediately objects, “I need a job. You can’t be the only one working, we’re going to fall apart.”

There’s a pang in Michael’s chest as the other boy says this. He knows that this is one of the things keeping Avery from grieving. Yes, money is definitely going to be an issue at some point, but it’s not right now. Dan had savings, and Michael is taking enough shifts for him and Avery to get by. 

“Ave,” Michael starts, his head turning to the side as he tiredly runs his fingers through his hair, preparing for a conversation that he’s had many times already. 

Just as he turns, though, his eyes catch on a figure outside the glass doors of the shop. As the door is pulled open, the frosty air seems to swirl around Michael, making him stiff and cold. Really, it’s not the air at all. The person walking into the shop is all too familiar to him, and when their eyes meet, he can’t help the shiver that runs down his back. 

A long second passes before Michael’s eyes flash back to Avery, who is staring expectantly back at him. Michael takes a deep breath, trying to slow his sudden, hammering heart. 

“Hey, you know what?” he begins again, offering Avery a small smile, “I sent you an email earlier. It’s a job you might like. You should head back home and take a look.”

Avery’s eyebrows raise, “What? I just got here. Are you kicking me out?”

“No, I just…” he flounders, searching for something he can say that won’t be a lie. When he finds it, his smile fades and he reaches out to touch the back of Avery’s hand, “You should go back to the apartment and get some rest. I know you won’t tell me, but I can tell today’s been bad.”

Avery’s face falls automatically, and his eyes drop to the table. He fumbles with his coffee cup, unsure of how to respond in a way that will make Michael believe he’s fine. When he comes up with nothing, he heaves a sigh.

“Yeah, all right. Fine. But I am gonna keep looking for a job. I’ll just do it on the comfort of our couch,” he smiles defiantly, causing Michael to roll his eyes. 

A moment later, Avery stands with his coffee and sandwich in hand, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get off early today,” Michael shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah right,” Avery mumbles with a smile, rolling his eyes at his friend before turning towards the door.

Michael watches Avery as he starts out of the shop. His eyes follow the red curls until the door is pushed open and he’s starting down the street. Then, his gaze drifts toward the man who entered only moments before, who is now leaning against the shop counter, his eyes trained on Michael. 

_ Sam Matthews.  _ The name drifts across Michael’s mind, followed by numerous flashes of memories without his permission. Memories that had been pushed to the back of his mind; one’s that he thought he thought he would never have to face. For a short moment, he looks Sam over. From the time where they would see each other every day to now, he hasn’t changed. He has the same dark, imperfect yet perfect hair that’s only seen in magazines. His eyes have the same richness that speaks of a past that’s too complicated to share. He’s holding himself the way he always did before; the same confidence that makes everyone around him glance twice. The only change is that his usual playful, yet adoring, smile that Michael had grown so accustomed to is replaced by an unsettling frown. 

Michael tares his eyes away, casting them down to the floor. Quickly, he stands, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the ground as he walks back to the shop counter. He subtly makes a curve around Sam to get to the section where he can pass back behind the bar. He pretends not to notice Sam never looking away from him as he moves.

“Rose, I changed my mind. I’ll take a break later,” Michael mutters as he walks by his coworker again.

She turns to look at him from where she’s leaning against the back counter, a wash cloth in her hand that’s not really being used, “I didn’t know you got to pick and choose your breaks, Foster.”

Michael raises an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest, “You practically live on break.” 

“That’s not true,” she mumbles, turning back to the counter, “I’m cleaning, see?”

He scoffs, turning around to face the shop again. It was a mistake. Sam is still there, his eyes now squinted at Michael with obvious confusion and maybe a little anger. Michael stares around at the shop, hoping that maybe someone else will come up and order a sandwich, or a drink, or anything. He’s hoping for something that will spare him from the unpleasant conversation he’s undoubtedly about to have.  _ No such luck,  _ he thinks, taking note that only two tables are filled, both of them covered in already half eaten food. Everyone outside the shop is passing without a second glance. It’s been a slow day. 

Grudgingly, Michael finally lifts his gaze to Sam. When he does this, he immediately understands why it was a good idea to avoid direct eye contact at all costs. The sharp, pang in his heart is swift, and he feels his pulse begin to race. The familiar feeling of itching fear spreads through his mind, and he grips the counter in front of him to keep himself together. He hadn’t anticipated his anxiety being triggered today, so he decided to save taking his pill for a later hour. Obviously, it was a bad idea. Not only is the anxiety bad, but the guilt that follows for feeling that way makes it a hundred times harder to deal with. 

“Michael, can we talk?” The sound of Sam’s familiar, always steady voice, in other circumstances, would’ve been able to calm Michael on the spot. Now, it only seemed to make him feel worse.

It takes him a moment to work up the courage to speak, and when he does, Michael’s tone is rigid, “We have nothing to talk about.”

Utter disbelief washes across Sam’s face, and Michael can almost hear the thoughts in his head. They probably have an infinite amount of things to talk about, but Michael can’t bring himself to contemplate any of them. 

“That’s bull!” Sam snaps, surprising Michael with the harshness. Sam has always been very patient and controlled, but now, he supposes, things are very different between them. Considering it’s Michael’s fault, he doesn’t have any room to be shocked at a difference in Sam’s demeanor, “Why are you being like this? Why are you pushing me away?” 

The weight of these words hits Michael like a punch, and he finally has to drop his gaze. While he’s staring back at Sam, he can see the intensity and the sadness. It’s too easy for him to say the words that would bring the smile back to Sam’s lips, and as much as it pains him, he can’t do that. Not now. Not after everything.

“I’m not being like anything,” Michael says, hardening his tone, “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

When he looks back up, Michael can see the hurt written all over Sam’s face. Michael wants to reach out to him, and if he’s being honest with himself, he wants to explain everything to him. He knows, though, that if he does this, he won’t be able to hold back the break down. He’ll let himself fall back in with Sam, and he just can’t do that. 

When Sam speaks again, his tone is patient, like he’s holding back anger, which again seems strange, “Can you please explain why? Because you are really confusing me.”

Michael’s eyes find the counter again, and he feels the pressure on his chest growing. His mouth goes dry, and his stress begins to amplify, just like it always does. If he lets this go on for longer, eventually he will start finding it hard to breathe. His grip tightens on the counter, and he forces out the words that he hopes will end this here and now, “You need to go, Sam! I can’t talk to you, okay? I can’t- I can’t do this. Go!”

The impact on Sam is immediate, and many emotions fly across his face at one time. Michael locks eyes with him yet again, and this time he sees a fire blazing within them. Sam opens his mouth, but then audibly snaps it shut. He takes a step back, and then turns his eyes towards the floor. For a moment, he seems to consider something in his head very carefully. Then, he takes one more look at Michael before turning on his heel. 

Michael feels the ache inside of him as he watches Sam walk away. He wants to shout something, anything, that would make the memorable, tortured expression leave his face. Luckily, Sam is out of the shop before he gets the chance. Michael takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall beside him. His heart still thumps erratically in his chest, and when he take his hands off of the counter, they’re shaking. He scans the shop, realising that Sam and him hadn’t exactly been quiet. He sees one customer glancing at him, and Michael immediately thinks the worst. He can hear judgemental words in his head, and he fights to push them away. 

Feeling the tension rising all throughout his body, Michael quickly turns away from the seating area in the shop. He pushes open the door behind him that leads to the employees only section, and hastily steps inside. He rushes over to the small row of lockers, finding his own, and opens the latch with cold, shaking fingers. In the small backpack hanging inside the locker on one of the hooks, he reaches his hand in and fumbles around until his fingers close around the familiar bottle. He pulls it out, not hesitating before snapping open the lid and pouring out one of the small, blue pills. He quickly pops it into his mouth, closing his eyes and waiting for the familiar, calm feeling to spread through his mind.

* * *

 

Avery is used to the busy streets of New York. Having been here all his life, he’s very familiar with the sounds of car horns honking, people yelling and crashing into other people, colors flashing in every direction, and the inexplicable ability to lose someone who’s two feet in front of you. Despite all of this, there’s always been something about New York city that makes Avery smile. Even now, in the middle of winter, bundled under layers of coats and surrounded by angry early risers, he can’t help but feel a little bit better walking around. Dan used to ask him about this all the time, but Avery could never find the right words to describe the feeling. Dan had very different opinions about New York. 

Very clearly, Avery hears the echo of Dan’s words in his mind. His complaints about New York and it’s lack of vibrancy. He sees the bitterness that was etched onto Dan’s face whenever he spoke about the terrible noise of New York. Avery stumbles, forcing his eyes down to his shoes. He reaches a hand out to catch the side of a building to regain his balance. Unfortunately, that same hand was clasped around the now falling cup of coffee. Avery hardly notices the impact, because his mind is being pulled elsewhere. Suddenly, a very real memory of Dan takes over his senses, and he’s no longer in the city;

 

_ He’s sitting in one of the three chairs in his kitchen, and he has a bowl of cereal in front of him. Through the window above the kitchen counter, sunlight is streaming into the room, and Michael is sitting on top of said counters with his computer on his lap. Dan is leaning against the oven, staring out of the window with a disdainful expression.  _

_ “You’re doing it again,” Avery says, sitting down his spoon and turning his chair to get a better look at his brother. _

_ Dan looks down at him, raising his eyebrows, “Doing what?” _

_ “Complaining. With your face,” Avery says with a knowing smile.  _

_ Dan chuckles humorlessly, glancing back at the window and shaking his head, “You got me. I can’t help it. It’s just so goddamn loud. You’d think people would calm down eventually, but it never happens.” _

_ Avery shrugs, “I like it. Whenever I open my window I hear something different. Makes life interesting.” _

_ Dan snorts, looking over at Avery with a wistful expression and shaking his head.  _

_ “You like everything,” Michael interjects, peering at Avery from above his computer.  _

_ Avery scoffs, “That’s not true. I don’t like you.” _

_ Michael sticks his tongue out, making them both laugh and Dan to roll his eyes in amusement.  _

_ “You know what I would find interesting?” Dan starts, his eyes back on the window and his mind very clearly somewhere else, “Looking outside and seeing trees. Nature. Hell, the blue sky. Seeing a neighborhood where people actually stop to talk to each other. I want to hear birds in the morning, not an endless stream of cars.” _

_ Avery and Michael share a look when Dan finishes. Michael shrugs, looking back down at his computer, but Avery looks back over at his brother.  _

_ “That sounds nice too,” Avery nods, then hesitates before adding, “Seems like you’ve been somewhere like that before.” _

_ Dan meets his brother’s eyes with an unreadable expression, and an odd feeling resonates within Avery.  _

_ “I’ve been around,” Dan says with finality, making it clear that he won’t say anything else on the subject.  _

 

“Hey, are you okay?” an unfamiliar voice registers in Avery’s ears.

Suddenly, the kitchen shatters, and he’s left looking only at blackness. He gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. Then, the pain comes. It tightens around his heart, and makes his bones weak. He feels lightheaded and dizzy, and his hands feel strangely numb. Slowly, the real world wraps around his senses, and he hears the sounds of the city again. Behind his eyelids, he sees the brightness of the day filling his vision. He opens his eyes, wincing at the light, to take in the scene before him. First, he realises that he’s no longer standing. The numb feeling in his hands is because they’re both resting on a patch of dirty snow on the sidewalk. He quickly stuffs them in his pockets, where he finds his sandwich that he stuffed in there as he was leaving the shop. Finally, it dawns on him that someone had spoken to him, and his gaze lifts. 

Creating a barrier between Avery and the irritated, morning people of New York, a young man with a worried expression on his face crouches down in front of him. Automatically, Avery knows that he has never seen this person before. If he had, he definitely would have remembered. His features are sharp, and his dark hair is striking against his skin. His hair covers much of his eyes, making appear uninviting to anyone standing far away. His eyes are a shocking, pale blue that are shimmering in the shadows above them. It’s not his face, though, that makes it so hard for Avery to tear his eyes away. It’s the odd, brightness the exudes from his entire form. Even surrounded by the chilly air and dampened by painful memories, the strange energy coming off of this stranger seems to lift his spirits. It’s almost like the man is glowing. Of course, he’s not. People don’t glow.

“I was walking and I saw you fall. You okay? What happened?” The stranger asks, and Avery notices that even though he’s obviously here to help, he’s keeping space between them. Probably out of politeness.

“I uh,” Avery starts, breathless. He clears his throat, then smiles “I slipped. I’m fine, thanks.” 

The boy smiles back, curiosity in his eyes. Avery watches as he stands, and holds out a hand to him. Avery glances down at the hand, suddenly unaware of normal human interactions. When he realises he’s supposed to take it, he blushes while he does so. He pulls himself up, quickly letting go of the stranger’s hand to brush any snow off of his clothes. For a second, his eyes wander around him at the other people hurrying down the street. Mostly, they just ignore everything and anyone besides themselves, so really, he has no reason to feel embarrassed. If it weren’t for the person standing in front of him, he might not care what anyone else is thinking at all. But, as he meets the man’s eyes again, he can’t help but feel very aware of what exactly just happened. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, and Avery realises that it must look like he’s literally seen a ghost. In a way, he sort of has. 

“Yeah,” Avery shakes his head subtly to clear his thoughts, “thank you.”

“No problem,” he waves Avery off, smiling casually, “I’m Emmett.” 

“Avery,” he responds, holding out his hand. As he does this, he allows himself to shake off the leftover feelings of misery and tension.

Emmett’s mouth quirks as he glances down at Avery’s hands, and he takes it hesitantly. Avery grins, shaking it once, mocking a professional encounter, before letting go. Emmett breathes out a chuckle, running his fingers through his hair. The expression on his face is strange, somehow, as if the interaction has completely confused him. Or maybe, he’s just completely confused by Avery himself. 

“Well, uh,” Emmett starts, and his expression becomes teasing, “There could be more ice on the sidewalk and I don’t want you to fall again. I think I should walk with you, y’know, just in case.”

Avery’s eyes fall to the ground, and the smile on his face grows. For a reason that he can’t explain, a fluttery feeling explodes in his stomach. It’s not unlike the feeling he gets when someone flirts with him, which, he supposes, makes sense, but he’s not one who generally takes to strangers so easily. For all he knows, Emmett could be completely insane. But, when his eyes meet Emmett’s again, he can’t find anything in his expression that could mean falseness. 

“Yeah, sure,” Avery shrugs, and he continues down his usual path with Emmett beside him. 

“So,” Emmett starts, and Avery looks up at him with raised eyebrows, “Where are we headed?”

“My apartment,” Avery answers before wondering if he shouldn’t. 

“Hm,” Emmett purses his lips, “You’re walking down the streets of New York to get home at 10:00 in the morning. Walk of shame?” he asks suggestively. 

Avery laughs, rolling his eyes, “Nope, I’m not that exciting. Just delivering coffee to a friend.”

“Ah, I see,” Emmett nods, as if he’s relieved that Avery hadn’t been with anyone else. Avery grins, looking down at his feet. 

“Where were  _ you _ off to?” Avery asks curiously.

“Uh, nowhere really. I was just exploring the city,” Emmett says nonchalantly, and Avery catches the note of hesitation. 

“Weren’t you cold?” Avery raises an eyebrow, feeling the frosty air chilling his face.  

"Ah, I'm cold hearted so I didn't even notice," Emmett  jokes, puffing out his chest like a 'tough guy'. 

Avery snorts, raising his eyebrows, "Oh yes, you're so cold that you helped a random guy who fell in the snow."

Emmett grins down at Avery, then runs his fingers through his hair. He stuff his hands in his pockets, and Avery recognizes the signs of nervousness.

"Well," Emmett shrugs, "I didn't want to see such a cute face get ruined."

Avery scoffs a tiny bit, rolling his eyes towards the floor. Than, he meets Emmett's gaze with a smile, "You don't flirt very much, do you?"

Emmett's loud laugh is unexpected, but it makes Avery grin, "No, I don't. But, you're blushing, so I think it worked out in my favor."

"Nope, that's just from the cold," Avery obviously lies, and then giggles.

As Avery walks, he realizes how easy it's been to talk to Emmett. Despite reliving one of the many memories he has with his dead brother, he feels almost perfectly fine. Something about Emmett makes him feel light as air, and he lets the feeling warm him. 

"So, you like the cold then?" Avery asks, looking up at Emmett again.

He shrugs, "Not particularly. I prefer winter to summer, I guess,"

"Yeah, me too," Avery automatically agrees, but then he feels the need to explain further, "Well, I don't like the cold actually. But, I like how warm and colorful the holidays are in winter."

As he says this, he glances around at the nearby shops with a fond smile. He takes notice of each red and green decoration. Whenever he's feeling down, the reminders of Christmas rolling around always puts at least a small smile on his face. 

"Hm, I don't really notice that either," Emmett murmurs looking in the same direction as Avery with a frown.

"Really? That's what I've always loved about winter. There's color everywhere and even when it's cold outside, the joyfulness of everyone make it somehow warm. Metaphorically, y'know?"

Emmett stares down at Avery with an odd expression, as if he's trying to solve some sort of riddle. Avery blushes again, his eyes falling to the floor.

"I've never thought about it like that. I just see everyone stressing about getting gifts and keeping the pretense of Santa," Emmett says, but as he looks around the street, a flicker of what Avery sees flashes in his eyes, "I guess you're right though."

"I know," Avery says in a proud, high pitch voice which makes them both laugh. 

Avery leads them to a corner, and as they turn, he eyes his apartment building with a sour expression. The stress of being alone in his apartment tugs at his heart, and he wants to hold on to this carefree feeling that Emmett resonates in him. He slows to a stop in front of the doors, and Emmett stops next to him.

"This is it?" he asks, and when Avery meets his eyes he sees the same disappointment that he, himself, is feeling.

"Yep," Avery mumbles with a small smile, shrugging.

"I guess this is where I get off, then?" Emmett sighs, eyeing the building with a grudging look. 

Avery bites his lip, then glances back at Emmett with a shy smile, "Well, I'll see you around, Emmett. It was really nice meeting you. Thanks again for, you know, helping me and all. And walking me home."

Emmett nods, "Thanks for letting me. Walk you home, I mean. I hope I see you again."

"Yeah, me too," Avery throws in, and it's clear in his words that he's genuine. 

Emmett grins, taking a few steps backwards before turning around and heading down the street in the opposite direction that they had come. Avery follows him with his eyes, the feeling of despair returning more and more with every step. His chest tightens, and he closes his eyes to stop himself from falling apart all over again. He quickly pushes open the door of the apartment building and steps inside. 

The warm air seeps into him as he walks without paying attention to his surroundings. Instead of making him feel better, it makes him feel claustrophobic as he moves towards the elevator.

With his mind crowded with thoughts, he makes it to his room without noticing the path he took. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the key and jamming it into the lock. He steps inside the room, and shuts the door behind him with his back. He stares blankly at the familiar, dark space. He heaves a sigh, knowing now that he has to comes to terms that it happened again today. Before he got distracted by Emmett's company, he got another one of his flashbacks. 

It's not something he's always had to deal with. They started after Dan died. Every so often, when Avery is thinking too much about his brother, or something unexpected happens that reminds him of Dan, he loses control over his mind for a few minutes. He transports to the part of his mind that holds memories in perfect clarity, and he gets stuck there. He's forced to relive those moments, and afterwards, it feels like he's been stabbed in the heart. The first time it happened, he started screaming when it was over, believing that his brother was there with him and that he just couldn't find him. Then, when he came to terms with what had happened, he couldn't get out of bed for a whole day. It was too painful. It started happening regularly, and every time, it hurts just the same as the first. He's just gotten better at managing it. He knows that he should tell Michael about these flashbacks, but he can never bring himself to. Besides, Michael can't do anything about it anyway. No need to make him feel worse. 

Avery sighs, crossing entryway to the living room sofa. He drops his keys on the coffee table, and plops down on the couch tiredly. His laptop is laying on the cushion next to him, and he pulls it onto his lap. He opens his emails and clicks on the one that Michael sent him. His eyes gloss over the page, but his mind automatically drifts elsewhere. On the website that's linked, there's a picture of a bird flying with a cheesy smile on its face. It's just a lame clip art, but it brings back the memory of the game that he frequently used to play with his brother. Not a game really, but a way they would cope with stressful situations. They would think about how a bird would deal with the same situation. Not very logical, maybe, but they had both been obsessed with the animal, so it was fun. 

Now, as Avery is searching for a job, he often thinks about the different kinds of jobs that birds have. Male birds, obviously, have it pretty easy. Most of their job is just finding a female. They pick a tree and sing until she finds him. It's the females who have to build the nest and have the eggs. Although, maybe they enjoy building those nests. They get to fly around different trees and other environments to gather different materials to build whatever shape they want to make. And, laying eggs maybe isn't as hard as it sounds. And, even if it is hard, birds have it easy. They don't have to think about what they do. They don't have to go through tons of different jobs and think about what would be good for them. As soon as they're born, they know exactly what they're going to do, and then they do it without any qualms. People have it so much harder. They have to go through school where they're constantly told they have to know exactly where they're going in life, but they don't have that knowledge already installed in their brains. Once they get out into the real world, they're expected to find a job automatically, even though it might make them miserable. They have to worry about other things in their life as well. Like people dying. Then they have to get passed all of that to actually do their job. If Avery was a bird, he wouldn't care that his brother died. He wouldn't have to struggle to get out of bed in the morning, let alone find a job that will satisfy him. He would already have a job, and he would do it without a second thought. Life would be so much easier. 

Avery blinks rapidly, his eyes focusing back on the website. His eyes have blurred, and he realizes that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. He roughly brushes them away, then closes the laptop harshly. He puts his hands over his face, leaning his head back against the couch while he cries. 

* * *

 

Michael gets back to the apartment at 5:30, and he moves sluggishly down the hallway. Although it hasn't been a particularly busy day, slow even, his emotions were running high. Between Avery and Sam, he couldn't get his mind off of frustrating people. He sighs as he opens the door, glancing around the room. His eyes find Avery asleep in the living room as he shuts the door again, and he frowns. 

He walks to the kitchen to set down his backpack and apron, then walks into the living area. For a moment, he leans against the wall, eyeing Avery with a stoney expression. He can see the redness in his cheeks, and the tear stains. When he glances down at Avery's sweater, he sees the wetness from crying. His computer is laying next to him in an odd way, and Michael wonders if that has something to do with it. He sighs again, walking over and sitting on the couch audibly. Slowly, Avery's eyes open in confusion, and they squint when they land on Michael. 

"Are you home early?" he asks groggily, then looks forward at the clock resting on top of the television. 

"Nope, it's almost 6," Michael says, ruffling Avery's hair teasingly. 

Avery brushes him away with a smile, reaching his arms up to stretch, "Guess I fell asleep. I was looking at your email and then..." he trails off, then just shrugs. 

Michael wants to ask 'then what? Something made you think of Dan and you started crying? Do you need comfort? Tea? Hot cocoa? Anything? Just tell me!' but he keeps his mouth shut. He desperately wants Avery to talk to him, but he can't force it. Especially when he's not being completely honest himself. How long has it been since Sam was a key person in his life, and Avery still has no idea. As Sam enters his mind again, his chest tightens, and he looks away from Avery guiltily. 

"Wanna watch something?" he asks, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. 

"Sure," Avery mumbles, then shifts on the couch, laying down across Michael's lap. 

Michael smiles, resting his arms on Avery while scrolling through channels.

"So, what else did you do today?" Michael asks, trying to get closer to the subject of Avery's obvious pain. 

Avery doesn't say anything for a moment, and Michael thinks that he might've fallen back asleep, but then he speaks, "Nothing really, but I actually met someone."

Michael's eyes widen at this, and then narrow as he looks down at his best friend, "What? Where? Who?"

Avery chuckles, "It was when I was walking home. I fell, and he helped me up. His name is Emmett, and he walked me home,"

"Oh great," Michael rolls his eyes, "so a complete stranger knows where we live?"

Avery scoffs, "No, he just walked me to the door. And he was really nice, by the way," he says pointedly. 

Michael laughs a little, "Well, good. Was he cute? Did you get his phone number?"

Avery Avery rolls onto his back to look Michael in the eye with a frown, "Yes, he was cute. And, no, I didn't get his number. Damn it, I totally forgot I could do that."

Michael raises an eyebrow, holding back a smirk, "You forgot that people have phones and you can use those phones to interact with them?"

"Shut up," Avery grumbles, rolling his eyes. 

Michael laughs, turning back to the tv. A show is playing that neither of them are interested in, but he lets it play. He feels Avery shift on his lap, and he can tell he's getting comfortable to possibly fall asleep again. At the talk of cute boys, again, his mind drifts to Sam. His heart begins to pick up speed, and he glances back down at Avery. So badly, he wants to talk about Sam. He wants to tell Avery everything about what happened between them. But, he can't. There’s too much pain in Avery’s life; talking to him about a high point in Michael’s life would make everything worse. So, instead, he says nothing. He listens to the sounds of Avery’s steady breathing, allowing it to clear his mind and forget about everything else.

* * *

 

Long after the sun has gone down, Sam Matthews wanders alone. Ever since that morning, he’s been in and out of his apartment all day. He keeps trying to find different things to distract himself from Michael, but nothing seems to be working. Each time he goes outside, he thinks that the cold air will clear his mind, but it doesn’t. Now that it’s nearly midnight, he doesn’t try. 

He knows he should go back home; he should crawl in bed and forget that the failure of a conversation even happened. But, his mind won’t let him. His mind is constantly screaming at him for things he can’t control and feelings he can’t hide. Not anymore. Going to sleep wouldn’t even help. If he did manage to fall asleep, his dreams would haunt him. They would scream at him just like his mind does when he’s awake. 

Sam clasps the sides of his head, trying to force himself to focus on something else; anything else. He glances around at where he is, and realises that he’s managed to find his way to Michael’s apartment building. His breathing becomes erratic, and he stumbles backward. Without thinking, he turns around and starts moving in the other direction, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. 

When he rounds the corner, he leans against the side of the building, squeezing his eyes shut.  _ How did I even get here?  _ The thought echos in his mind, and he grabs his hair with his hands, tugging harshly. He lets out a noise of frustration, before dropping his hands back down to his sides. They scrape against the bricks behind him, and he winces. For a moment, he stands there completely still, listening to his breathing slowly go back to normal. When it’s finally at a calm, steady pace, he opens his eyes with a sigh. 

His eyes land on a flickering street lamp ahead of him, and for a while he stares at it without thinking about anything at all. Then, he catches the sound of quick footsteps coming down the middle of the street. For a reason he can’t explain, Sam has the impulse to hide from this newcomer. He shrinks against the wall, knowing that the street light is on the other side of the street, and it won’t shine on him. He’s completely hidden in the shadows. 

When the person comes into view, Sam can see that it’s a young man, but that’s about it. He has his hood on, and Sam wonders if this stranger would notice him even in broad daylight. He moves quietly, yet with swiftness, and Sam assumed that he’ll disappear down the street without another thought. But, then he stops under the same street light that Sam was watching. Sam furrows his eyebrows, watching the stranger look up at the light, and then the apartment building that Sam is leaning against. Michael’s apartment building. The man looks away, then pulls something out of his pocket. Sam can’t see a lot, but between the flashes coming from the light, he can see that the object is round and metallic. The hair on Sam’s arms begin to rise as he stares at the object, and his gaze moves back up the stranger’s face. For a moment, he can’t see anything. Then, without warning, a bright, white light emits from the object. Sam gasps, his eyes half-way closing due to the sudden brightness. As he stares at the stranger, he can now see his  pale, blue eyes illuminated by the object. Sam worries that he will be seen in the light, but as sudden as the light came, it’s gone just as fast. Not only that, but the man has disappeared as well. 

Sam stands as still as a statue, his heart pounding. It’s not because of the light coming from the object, nor is it because of the strange, disappearing man. If anyone else had seen it, they’d probably run away screaming. But, not Sam. No; Sam’s heart is pounding because he’s seen this before. Not here; in a whole other life. A whole other world. This is a kind of magic that he’d hoped he would never see again. Yet, here it is right in front of him. Sam’s blood begins to boil in his veins, and his hands start to shake. Instead of fear, he feels fury burning in his bones. Instead of the incessant screaming thoughts, he only hears one; one question blazing through his mind.  _ Who the hell is that, what is he doing here, and what the hell am I going to do about it?  _

 

 


	2. Complicated

  
_ In Avery's dream, everything is very overwhelming. There are indecipherable flashes of bright colors mixed in with random faces he doesn't recognize. Occasionally, his brother's face will make an appearance, or Michael's. Blue eyes blink at him before the scene changes yet again. Eventually, the colors settle, and he sees the night sky. Not his night sky though; not the sky in New York. No, this sky is in motion. The stars are much brighter, and they dance with one another. Other planets are much closer than they should be, and instead of black or dark blue, the sky is filled with purples and reds, and even greens in some places. Then, the picture changes again, and he's looking at a strange forest. Above him is the same sky, but even though it's nighttime, the forest trees are lit up. Different animals glide past him as he watches. A flying rabbit, a fox that breathes fire. Wolves make an appearance as well, but their eyes are different. They're bright green, and there are strange vines curled around the wolves' fur. Suddenly, Avery is no longer looking at animals in the middle of the forest, but he seems to be on a street. Around him, people are chatting; laughing. Everyone is unfamiliar. For a while, they all just walk by without a second thought. Then, the image shifts, and he can see himself surrounded by the same people. This time, they're all staring at him. They've all stopped moving, and for a moment, he can't figure why their happy expressions have grown cold. Then, he sees the blood. The wounds. On everyone, there are gashes and burns and cuts, and he hears screaming from behind him. He whirls around, searching for the noise, only to find children running around being chased by fire. Avery wants to run away, but instead he just stands there staring at the fire. He holds his hands out, somehow thinking that he will stop the fire with his bare hands. When the fire reaches him, the image turns black. _

* * *

 

Michael sits up in bed with a start. His eyes are wide, and his hands are gripping his covers tightly. He releases them, then rubs his hands over his eyes, trying to push away the strange, vivid dream. It was more of a nightmare, really. He runs his fingers through his hair, then drops them to the bed. He doesn't even realize how he's waken up until the blaring alarm finally registers in his ears. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, then quickly turns off the alarm on his phone. Slowly, he drags himself out of bed to start the day. 

After throwing on some sweats and lazily stumbling out of his room, he closes the small hallway to open Avery's door. Just like everyday, he expects to find Avery still fast asleep, but he's surprised to see him sitting up in bed with a look of astonishment. 

"Wow, awake before 10, what a shock," Michael mumbles, leaning against the doorframe.

Avery turns towards him like he's being pulled out of deep thought, and seems to hardly reply to Michael's teasing, "Hilarious."

Michael squints his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, "You okay?"

Avery turns away again, furrowing his eyebrows at the floor, "Yeah, I just had a crazy dream."

"Hm," Michael breathes in agreement, "Me too. It was crazy vivid. And, y'know how you always forget a dream right when you wake up? I remember every detail of this one."

Avery meets his gaze with raised eyebrows, "Yeah, actually, me too. It was weird, there were weird animals and... a lot of fire," he shivers. 

Michael scoffs, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, "Are you kidding? Like, weird animals as in flying bunnies and fox-dragon things?" 

Avery tilts his head in confusion, "That's exactly what it was,"

Surprisingly, Michael laughs, and Avery lifts an eyebrow at him, "Alright, we definitely hang out too much. Now we're having the same crazy dreams?"

Avery snorts, rolling his eyes, "Well we already knew that was true. We should really get other friends," he teases. 

Michael scoffs, "Please, we're not friends. We're brothers."

A small smile forms on Avery's face, "Yeah, we are. Which is probably why we shouldn't hang out so much. It's officially weird." 

They both laugh, then Michael reluctantly pushes away from the doorframe, "Alright, I have to get ready for work. I'll see you later?"

Through a yawn, Avery nods, "Yeah, I'll be there just like I always am."

Michael smiles stiffly, then backs out of the room while closing the door again. As he slowly moves through his morning routine, he can't help but wonder how Avery is doing. This morning, he seemed relatively okay, but the circles under his eyes were unmistakable. No wonder he doesn't get up early; he doesn't sleep. Avery has always had an overactive imagination, and Michael wonders if those same thoughts plague him at night. Sure, last nights dream was random and crazy, but what are the rest of his dreams like? Are they of Dan? Avery was the one who found Dan dead on their apartment floor; does he see that at night? He wouldn't know, because Avery refuses to talk to him about it. 

Now dressed and ready for the day, Michael throws his keys, wallet, apron, and medication into his pack and throws it over his shoulders. With his hand on the doorknob, he glances behind him with a worried expression. More and more, he worries that leaving Avery home alone isn't a good idea. With a huff, he pulls the door open and steps outside. 

With his eyes cast down to the floor, he walks down the hallway and to the stairwell on the far end of his floor. He'd take the elevator, but something about the confined walls has always increased his anxiety levels. Taking two steps at a time, he hurriedly gets down to the first floor in less than two minutes. Although he's nowhere near being late for work, he likes getting there early to set things up. 

As he pushes the stairwell door and enters the lobby, he first glances at the clerk sitting behind her desk, looking like she's about to fall asleep sitting up. He chuckles inwardly at that, then turns his gaze to find one other person standing in the lobby. Normally, Michael would keep to himself and avoid interactions that he doesn't know the outcomes to. But, something about this man pulls him up short. There's something about him that makes him more noticeable than anything in the room, and when Michael gets a good look at his face, his heart strangely begins to thud in his chest. Obviously, by the way he's awkwardly moving his hands around and tapping his foot, this guy is either waiting for someone, or doesn't know where to go. Hesitantly, Michael walks over to him, pushing past the sudden wave of panic rising in his chest.

"Hey, uh, hi. Do you live here? I've never seen you around before," Michael asks conversationally with a tight smile. 

The stranger looks over at him, looking him over with a strange, analyzing expression. There's a hint of something in his eyes that Michael can't place, and it disappears when he responds, "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, uh," Michael stammers, "You just look kinda lost. Do you live here?" 

His eyes narrow a tiny bit, and his arms cross over his chest, "No, I don't. Are you always this nosy?"

Michael's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open, but he quickly snaps it shut. His eyes fall down to the floor as he mumbles, "Uh, I... sorry," before turning on his heel and quickly moving towards the front doors of the building. 

As he glances back, he sees the stranger's analyzing expression still on him as he walks away. Michael's face turns red as he steps out of the building and quickly starts down the street. 

* * *

 

Emmett stares at Michael's head as he quickly rushes out of the building. He shakes his head in disbelief. To him, it's all too obvious that this boy is the same as Avery. He has the same brightness; the same glow. There's too much color in his hair; his face. Just like Avery, there's no possible way he can be from this world. He has to be the other one. The other one that so many are looking for. 

He turns back to the same lobby that he's been standing in for several minutes, trying to figure out his course of action. Ever since yesterday, Avery hasn't left his mind. The mystery of why he's here in the first place is too much; he wants to know everything. More than that; he wants to know why Avery doesn't know anything. Why doesn't he knows where he's from? What he is? What he can do? Of course, there's the chance that Emmett is wrong, but he sincerely doubts it. 

Unfortunately, he doesn't exactly have a way of talking to Avery again without feeling like a complete stalker. He eyes the half-dead clerk sitting in front of a desktop, thinking about asking for Avery's apartment, but would she even give it to him? 

Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that he doesn't have to worry about if she chooses to help him at all. With the right method, she'll give him anything he wants without a second thought. Emmett turns on his heel, his eyes falling on his bag that he tossed on one of the uncomfortable lobby chairs. He quickly reaches inside until his fingers close around the right tool that he needs. 

* * *

 

His head under his comforter, Avery lays with his eyes open, still in bed. He'd give anything to fall back asleep, but his racing mind won't allow that. His mind keeps drifting back to the odd dream, wondering where in the world it came from. Obviously, it was because of something both Michael and he had seen, but he can't think of what. Maybe it was something they saw on tv a while ago.

Under the blankets, breathing slowly becomes more difficult, and Avery throws them off of him in aggravation. He glances over at the clock on his bedside table, and groans when it reads 7:15. Why did his dream have to wake him up so early? He rolls his eyes, turning to the other side and forcing his eyelids shut. He wants to fall asleep again before other thoughts take over his mind. This early in the morning, he'll have nothing to do to distract himself. 

Unexpectedly, the sound of a knock on the apartment door sounds. Avery turns toward his bedroom door with furrowed eyebrows, wondering who could possibly be here this early in the morning. Michael, he thinks, before throwing the blankets off of his body and pushing his legs off of the bed. He must've forgotten something, and then locked the door when he left.

Avery trudges out of his room and down the hall, getting a speech ready in his head about the importance of bringing your keys with you wherever you go. However, when he reaches the front door and throws it open with a grumpy expression, he's shocked to find Emmett standing in front of him with his fist raised, ready to knock on the door again. 

"Oh!" Avery says in bewilderment, his eyes widening, "I thought- uh, hi!"

The corners of Emmett's mouth tilts upward, and he stares back at Avery with innocent eyes, "I, uh, I asked the clerk for your apartment. I... Well, I was going to say you dropped something yesterday, but that's pretty lame, isn't it?" he lets out a nervous laugh, casting his eyes down to the floor. 

Avery smiles, leaning against the doorframe and looking Emmett over, "Yes, it is lame. But, I probably would've gone with it anyway. I was hoping I'd see you again," he admits, running his fingers through his hair.

Emmett meets Avery's gaze again, shock written on his expression. Then, it morphs into a shy smile, "Well, good. I was uh, hoping you'd want to, uh..." he trails off, obviously unsure of what to say. 

Avery squints his eyes at him, then fills in, "...hang out?"

Emmett huffs in relief, nodding, "Yes! I mean, do you? Want to?" 

Avery laughs, the same butterflies in his stomach forming as he takes in Emmett's adorable awkwardness. He pretends to consider, "Well, normally I wouldn't even be awake right now..." he trails off, dramatically sighing. 

Emmett blinks, the smile slowly leaving his face, "Right, yeah. Sorry, I-"

Avery cuts him off with a giggle, rolling his eyes, "Yes, I want to hang out. We can go for a walk, just give me a few minutes to get dressed."

Emmett grins back at him, visibly pleased at Avery's answer, and he nods, "Okay, I'll wait out here."

Avery nods, shutting the door and leaning against it quietly. He touches his lips, seeing that the smile seems to be stuck on his face. He feels fluttery and light as he pushes away from the door to rush to his closet.

It doesn't take long for Avery to pull on jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt, and an oversized sweater over that. He runs to the bathroom to sort out his hair, which is always in the same messy style thanks to his curls. He grimaces as he stares at himself in the mirror, trying to avoid thinking about his appearance completely as he puts toothpaste on his toothbrush. 

Soon enough, he's back in the front room, jamming sneakers on his feet while still trying to rush back to the front door. Now done getting ready, Avery hesitates with his hand hovering over the door knob. He turns back to his apartment, considering the fact that he should stay home and actually look at the email Michael sent about jobs. Eventually, he's going to have to stop avoiding that. But, the thought of being alone, when there's someone right outside this door that makes him feel 100 times better, makes him feel a real sense of dread. 

There's really no choice here, he thinks, turning back to the door and turning the handle. As soon as his eyes land on Emmett, the conflicting feelings wash away and a small smile settles on his face. Emmett is leaning against the wall across from Avery's apartment, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His gaze is fixed on the ground, and he appears to be in deep thought. Avery clears his throat loudly, and Emmett's eyes lift. Immediately, his face softens and he raises his eyebrows at Avery. 

"You ready?" he asks, turning a little towards the elevator in question. 

Avery grins, "Yep."

* * *

 

Soon, they're walking out of the apartment building together, feeling the cold air hit them as they step outside together. Avery slides his hands in his pockets, looking up at Emmett with questioning eyes. 

"Y'know, it's colder in the morning. Why were you here so early?"

Emmett shrugs, "I don't know, I'm always up early I guess."

"Doing what?" Avery asks curiously, raising an eyebrow.

Emmett meets his gaze, a smirk on his face, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Avery laughs, rolling his eyes, "You got a big secret I should know about?" 

Emmett grins, looking down at the floor, then looks back at Avery with humor in his eyes, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he jokes, making Avery giggle. 

"Alright, mister dark and mysterious," Avery says dramatically, shoving Emmett gently with his shoulder.

Emmett laughs, then after a pause, decides to change the subject, "So, why are you in New York anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Avery furrows his eyebrows.

"Well, people generally have a reason to be in New York. You know, city of dreams and all that," Emmett shrugs, looking at Avery with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," Avery starts teasingly, "I think the city of dreams is los Angeles, first of all. And, I was born here. I never thought to leave."

For a second, Emmett is silent, and Avery sees a strange glint in his eyes, "You were born here?" he asks.

Avery looks forward at his feet, which are moving at a slow pace down the sidewalk next to Emmett's. He shrugs, "I, uh, I'm fairly certain I was born here. I never met my parents and..." he trails off, frowning at the cement. 

"And?" Emmett encourages softly, bumping his shoulder with Avery's.

Avery looks up at him with a forced smile, "And I was raised here. I've never known anything else. What about you? What are you doing in New York?"

Emmett looks like he wants to ask more, but he turns away instead with a chuckle, "I'm definitely not from here. It's a little too dull for me."

Avery snorts, "Dull? New York? Where are you from?"

Emmett opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, furrowing his eyebrows, "Uh, nowhere, really," he says vaguely.

Avery laughs, nodding, "Oh, I get it."

Emmett looks down at him in confusion, "What?"

"You're on the run from the law right? That's why you're so secretive," he says matter-of-factly, then grins. 

Emmett laughs, rolling his eyes, "Yep, you got me. Tell the police you've caught Emmett Grey."

"Grey?" Avery asks, smiling up at Emmett curiously. 

Emmett nods, "Yeah, that's my last name. Now you can stalk me online."

Avery smiles, "Brooke; that's my last name."

Emmett glances down at the ground, an odd, thoughtful expression on his face, "Avery Brooke," he mumbles, then looks up at Avery with a smile, "I like it."

"Thanks, I got it for my birthday," Avery grins, causing Emmett to roll his eyes. 

"That was terrible," Emmett shakes his head in amusement.

"What? That was the best joke ever," Avery says, mock-offended. 

They both laugh, and Avery grins down at the floor. After a second, he furrows his eyebrows and his smile fades. 

"What?" Emmett asks, noticing the change in Avery's demeanor. 

Avery shrugs, "I... I don't like that question."

Emmett squints down at him, "Which one?"

"The 'Where are you from?' question," he responds, meeting Emmett's gaze.

Emmett stares back blankly, "Why?"

"Well," Avery sighs, "It's... a lot of questions," he starts, looking down at the ground as he sorts out his thoughts, "When someone is asking it, they could really be asking anything. Like, there's the obvious, what state or country were you born in. But, they could also be asking where you live right now. Or, where you consider to be home."

As Avery speaks, Emmett listens in fascination at his words. His expression shifts without his permission as the words slowly begin to make sense. For the second time is two days, he's been completely surprised by the thoughts that come from Avery Brooke.

"When someone asks," Avery continues without pause, "you could accidentally give them the wrong answer by still answering the question. And, maybe you don't consider yourself to be from a certain place. I mean, you could say 'I've been to hell and back' and it would still be a right answer. Or, a true answer. I don't think there are any right answers to that question."

When he finishes, Avery has a dream-like look on his face. As if he didn't quite know where he was going with it when he started speaking, but now that he's done, he's found every answer that he needs. Then, his face suddenly changes, and a blush forms on his face. When he looks back at Emmett, for the first time, his eyes hold the nervousness that Emmett always feels. 

"You have," Emmett starts in a whisper, shaking his head in astonishment, "A very interesting mind, Avery." 

Without thinking, Emmett reaches up and brushes a curl that's fallen into Avery's face. He sweeps it back into place, smiling timidly. Then, he blinks rapidly, his hand dropping back down to his side. He looks down at the ground, confused at his own actions. Avery gazes at him, a smile spreading across his face. Simultaneously, they both realize that they've stopped moving, and are facing each other on the sidewalk, closer to each other than they had been. Emmett takes a step back, meeting Avery's gaze nervously.

"So," Avery breathes, "Where are you from?" 

Emmett raises an eyebrow, than chuckles, ruffling his hair and looking into the distance at nothing in particular. He thinks for a second, then meets Avery's eyes with a wistful smile, "Hell and back."

* * *

 

About an hour later, Avery and Emmett have winded up inside a bakery to escape the cold. Emmett was hesitant to go inside, because judging by the window, the place was full of sweets that he has never particularly enjoyed. But, Avery's bright smile had convinced him. He didn't want to miss any of Avery's excitement. 

For a while, Avery had spent the time snacking on samples. Eventually, though, he notices Emmett not eating anything. From where they're sitting in the corner booth of the shop, Avery tosses his fudge sample wrapper to the side and squints at Emmett.

"Did you already eat breakfast or something?" he asks.

Emmett smiles sheepishly, looking down at the uneaten bits of food, "No, I'm just... not the biggest fan of baked goods."

Avery's eyes widen, "What? How can you not like baked goods? They're the best!"

Emmett laughs at Avery's enthusiasm, shrugging, "I don't know, I just don't generally eat them, I guess."

"Well that's just ridiculous," Avery scoffs, turning towards the counter, "I'm getting you a cupcake, and you're going to love it."

"What? No, seriously, don't-" Emmett starts, but Avery is already out of his seat.

Emmett watches him jog over to the counter, putting his hands on the counter and staring up at the menus attached to the back wall. Emmett would follow and try to stop him, but instead he just sits back and smiles fondly. He watches Avery excitedly tap his fingers on the counter, and when he turns back to smile smugly at Emmett, he shakes his head in amusement and smiles back. Then, he takes a second to assess how he's feeling. He stares down at the table, frowning. Why is he getting so caught up with this boy? He shouldn't be; he should be focused on the task at hand. But, he's not exactly sure what that is. Unfortunately, he can't ponder it for long, because Avery is bouncing back over to him, a pink frosted cupcake in his hands. 

Emmett grimaces at the cupcake, "Really? Did you get the most obnoxious one they had?"

Avery laughs, setting the treat down on the table and sliding it towards Emmett, "Come on, eat it. You know you want to," he says in a sing-song voice. 

"Pretty presumptuous for someone I just met," Emmett raises an eyebrow, but then smiles to show that he's teasing.

Avery rolls his eyes, then looks at Emmett with a thoughtful expression, "I know you're gonna like it. This is gonna sound weird, but  I read an article about moods connected with how things taste. How are you feeling right now?" he asks, and Emmett almost laughs at his seriousness. 

For a second, he thinks it over, looking down at the table. He looks back at Avery's expectant expression, and sees the same curl falling into his face. He can't help but grin, leaning back in his chair, "I feel pretty happy, I guess."

Avery smiles, a small blush coloring his cheeks, "Okay, that's what I thought. So, I got you a vanilla cupcake. In the article, in said that if you're in a good mood, you want light things that aren't too heavy. If you were in a bad mood, I would've gotten you chocolate. So, this cupcake should taste better than it usually does," he explains, folding his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow; a challenge. 

Emmett narrows his eyes at Avery, then down at the cupcake, "You do realize that sounds like utter crap, right?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Avery thinks it over, "Yeah, well, you can't be sure until you try, right?"

Emmett sighs, looking at the ceiling, then back at Avery. He smiles, rolling his eyes before picking up the cupcake. He quickly peels back the paper, then takes a small bite. At first he grimaces instinctually, then his eyebrows lift.

"See?" Avery exclaims, "You like it!"

Emmett rolls his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand, "Yeah, it's alright," he says, then swallows. 

Avery smiles hugely as Emmett takes another bite. When that bite is gone as well, Emmett scoffs, "You are way too pleased with yourself."

Avery shrugs, "Whatever," he chuckles, then reaches forward to grab the cupcake himself. He takes a huge bite, and Emmett laughs when frosting gets on his nose.

Emmett grabs one of the napkins on the table, and without much thought, he reaches forward and wipes the frosting away. Avery grins, having swallowed the bite, and looks down at the table. Emmett furrows his eyebrows at himself, quickly crumpling the napkin up and tossing it back on the table.

"So," Emmett starts, "I guess your article might have been right."

Avery snorts, looking back at Emmett with raised eyebrows, "Oh, that was total bullshit, I just wanted you to eat the cupcake."

Emmett scoffs, his eyes widening. Then, he laughs, tossing his head back and shaking his head, "You're such a liar!"

"I'm not a liar!" Avery gasps, putting his hand on his chest dramatically, then he laughs, "And hey, you liked it, so it doesn't matter."

Emmett sighs, shaking his head in amusement, "Come on, we're getting out of here before you force me to eat a whole cake or something." 

* * *

 

Throughout the rest of the morning, the two find themselves wandering into many different shops around the city. Being with Emmett, Avery feels better than he has in months. He goes from shop to shop in bewildered excitement, almost waiting for the feeling to flit away. Emmett trails behind, mostly observing Avery and taking note of each smile and flicker of excitement on his face. He’s never met someone so enthralled by normal life, and it’s baffling to him. Being in New York has never been interesting, yet Avery makes it so. He makes a habit of asking Avery questions, because he always has an answer that is unexpectedly brilliant. Not in the genius sort of way, but in a way that makes Emmett question everything. Avery sees life as a masterpiece, which becomes clear as they continue to spend time together.

Mostly, they walk outside and peer into windows; Avery commenting on each thing that catches his eye. When they do go in, Avery undoubtedly makes Emmett eat something, or try a ridiculous hat on or something like that. With anyone else, he would quickly grow tired of this and think of an excuse to leave, but with Avery, he’s finding it harder and harder to hide his amusement each time. With irritation, he realises that he’s flattered that Avery even wants to keep hanging out with him. At around 10:45, they end up at Avery’s usual coffee shop, and unbeknownst to him, the same place Emmett first saw him. 

As they stand in the long line, Avery inhales deeply, letting the shop and the smell of coffee warm him. He glances to the side, peering at Emmett. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets, and a strange look of subtle discomfort on his face and he eyes the crowded area. Avery bites down on the inside of his cheek, thinking how similar Michael looks when his anxiety is starting to build. Emmett looks more frustrated than anxious, though. Avery sighs, looking away. As much as he’s enjoying spending time with Emmett, and as much as he wants it to just be a good thing that he’s so distracting, there’s a part of him that’s wary. Many times today, he’s caught a look in Emmett’s eyes that’s contradicted his awkward, flirty demeanor. It’s the kind of look that makes Avery think he’s waiting for something; the kind of look a secret agent would get when he’s looking for a bomb. Maybe a little bit less extreme; he just looks like he keeps getting reminded of something bad.

_ Or, maybe,  _ Avery thinks, looking down at his feet, blushing,  _ Emmett is someone you don’t know anything about, and you should stop trying to read every single emotion on his face.  _

With that, he looks back up, fully turning to Emmett, ready to bring back the cheery feeling between them from before, “Okay, Mr. Dark and Mysterious,” Avery starts, and Emmett looks back at him with questioning eyes. 

Avery smiles a little, squinting his eyes, “Give me a hint.”

Emmett raises an eyebrow, “A hint about what?”

Avery rolls his eyes, looking at Emmett with a mix of amusement and irritation, “A hint about you! Your past; anything. Something interesting,” he bumps his shoulder to Emmett’s with a smirk as they step forward in line. 

Emmett laughs, brushing his fingers through his hair and looking away from Avery. Avery looks expectantly at him, and when Emmett looks back, he scoffs, “You haven’t told me anything about your past, either.”

Avery holds up a hand in defense, “Uh, you introduced yourself to me first yesterday, that means you share first. That’s the rule.” 

Emmett hesitates, “Okay, um…”

“Oh, come on. One little detail?”

Emmett bites his lip, his eyes falling to the floor. His mind fills with a hundred different words and phrases to describe his life. As he sifts through them, he becomes more and more uncomfortable. Everything that’s important, he’s not ready to tell Avery. And everything else; he’s just not willing to tell anyone. 

He clears his throat, “Where I’m from, it’s… very bright. It kind of hurts your eyes to be there sometimes. But, it’s amazing. I like to call it the Brighter Place.”

“Oh, that’s-” Avery starts, but then what feels like a blow to his stomach cuts him off. 

He pales, and he suddenly feels ten degrees cooler then he had a second ago. There’s something scary familiar about the words that Emmett has said, and as he repeats them over in his head, he realises why. He hears the words not in Emmett’s voice, but in his brothers. 

_ “Someday we’ll be in a brighter place Avery, I promise. You’re going to love it. There’s so many colors. It’s so much fun. I’ve been there.” _

He can’t place the exact memory. It must’ve been from a very long time ago, because Avery has clung on to as many memories of Dan that he possibly could. This must’ve been a conversation they had when Avery was still very little. Too young to remember it; except for now, of course. 

“Are you okay?” Emmett’s voice seeps back into Avery’s consciousness, and his eyes snap back to his direction. 

Avery sees the concern in Emmett’s eyes, and he can tell that Emmett has no idea why he’s reacting like this. How could he? It’s not like he even knew Dan. It’s not like they could be talking about the same place. It’s just a coincidence. 

Avery shakes his head to wash away the odd feeling, then smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, I just… I got a chill.”

Emmett raises an eyebrow in disbelief, but before he can ask further, Avery speaks up again.

“You know, I usually bring coffee to my friend Michael right around now,” he says in a rush, looking forward at the counter. He sees that it’s about to be their turn in line.

“Oh, alright,” Emmett nods, a little awkwardly. 

Avery looks back over at him, smiling fondly at the expression on Emmett’s face, “You can come, if you want.”

Emmett grins, then shrugs as if he could care less, “Yeah sure, I’ll come.”

Avery laughs, rolling his eyes and happily skipping up to the counter.

* * *

 

The towel in Michael’s hand glides across the table for the 6th time in a row. His mind is elsewhere, so this specific table in his shop is becoming meticulously clean. He can’t help but think about Avery. Half of his time is spent worrying about him, and today is no different. This morning, the look on Avery’s face-wasn’t exactly reason for concern, but it was different. He seemed distant, and being awake that early is certainly not like him. Of course, maybe it’s good that today is different. But, there is no way for Michael to be sure of that, and he desperately wants to be. He hates not knowing what to do with a situation, especially when it comes to Avery.

Michael sighs, dropping the towel and taking a seat in one of the chairs. It’s been a slow day, and whenever that happens he always seems to get more amped up. His foot starts tapping quietly on the ground, and he runs his fingers through his hair. When his fingers starts tapping on the table as well, he stands up, not wanting to get too lost in thought and have a panic attack right in the middle of the shop. Just as he does this, he hears the bell over the front door sound, and he turns in that direction. A pressure begins to form on Michael’s chest when, yet again, he sees Sam standing in the doorway. He lets out a huff, then turns on his heel and walks back behind the counter. In the corner of his eye, he sees Sam making his way forward, just like yesterday. 

“Seriously, Sam?” Michael hisses, leaning over the counter to glare at Sam. 

Sam glares as well, copying Michael’s position on the counter so their faces are closer together, “Michael, we need to talk! You owe me that.”

Michael leans away, casting his eyes down to the floor as his face turns pink. He opens his mouth to speak, but he suddenly finds himself unable. 

“Will you please just talk to me? For a few minutes, at least?” Sam’s tone is softer now, but the intensity is still there.

Michael meets his gaze again, “I already told you. I don’t want to do this,” He murmurs, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Sam looks down at the counter, his jaw tightening, then looks back up with such a despairing expression that Michael has to look away in shame.

“Well, this isn’t just about you, is it?” Sam mutters, pleading in his tone. 

Michael breaks, his arms falling to his sides. He looks up at the ceiling for a few seconds to try to get a hold over himself. He can feel the pressure building in his chest, and again his fingers are tapping, this time against his leg in an unsteady beat. He folds his arms over his chest, then meets Sam’s eyes, “You have five minutes.” 

Sam huffs out a sigh of relief, a small smile crossing his features. It’s a familiar face, and Michael has to force his hands to stay where they are instead of reaching out to Sam. 

“Will you come sit down with me?” Sam asks hesitantly, his eyes drifting to the table in the far left corner of the shop.

Michael’s eyes find the same table, and almost immediately they fall back down to the counter. It’s too late though, because the memories have already begun stirring in his head. Just a few months ago, he had spent every lunch break in that spot, Sam sitting across from him. Everyday, they would sit and talk. It wasn’t about anything in particular, they would just talk and laugh and be with each other. It was the best part of Michael’s day. Up until Dan’s death, Michael considered Sam the best part of his life. All they ever did was talk, but it was everything to him. Then, of course, there was their last night together. 

_ No.  _ Michael cuts off his own thoughts, not willing to think about that night. He gives his head a slight shake to clear his thoughts, then meets Sam’s eyes again. He realises that Sam is still waiting on an answer. 

“Uh, yeah. We can go sit,” Michael nods slowly, his voice small. 

Michael turns around to face Roseanne, who is standing purposefully away from this interaction. Her eyes are moving between Michael and Sam, so it’s not hard to guess that she wants to know what’s going on. Michael sighs, taking the few steps toward her. 

“Mike,” Roseanne starts in a hushed voice, “isn’t that that guy who used to come in and eat with you all the time? What’s up with you two?”

Michael rolls his eyes at her, “Nothing. I’m taking my break, okay?”

She puts a hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow suggestively, “You guys aren’t gonna get it on are you? There’s some serious sexual tension.”

Michael scoffs, his face turning red. He picks up a washcloth on the back counter and throws it at her face. He turns away from her, quickly walking away, but he hears her snicker. 

Without looking at Sam, Michael walks out to the main part of the shop, making his way to a table that isn’t the one that they used to sit in. He keeps his eyes down as Sam follows and takes the seat across from him. Finally, he lifts his gaze, seeing the expectant expression on his face. He can tell that Sam expects him to speak first, but his mouth is suddenly far too dry to speak. And, what would he say, anyway? As many times as he’s thought about this conversation, he could never find the right words.

Sam leans back in his seat, sighing. Then, he breaks the tense silence, “Michael, I don’t understand what happened with us.”

Michael opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. His leg starts bouncing, and he has to clasp his hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “I know,” he finally mutters, lamely. 

Sam waits for more, and when none comes, he sighs, “Michael, I like you. I thought we- I thought we had something. And after… after that night 5 months ago, I thought we were actually going to be together. But, you just left. I woke up and you were gone. I thought we were more than that.”

His words cut Michael deep, and he can no longer meet Sam’s eyes. His head begins to scream at him, and he subtly rubs his temple, “I know- we were… I just… Something bad happened, Sam. I had to leave,” he tries to keep his words steady and sure, but his nerves are making that impossible. 

Sam scoffs, the sound surprising Michael enough to meet his eyes again. Sam is shaking his head in frustration, crossing his arms across his chest, “So, do things keep happening? Because you haven’t picked up the phone in five months. You are barely looking at me. I would’ve appreciated a simple text, but there was nothing. I couldn’t even come down here because I was so worried I did something wrong. If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me!”

“It’s not that!” Michael raises his voice, slamming his hands down on the table. He glances around the shop, then leans in closer to Sam, speaking softly, “I can’t- I can’t explain this to you, Sam. It’s so complicated. It’s too hard. I just- I can’t see you!” 

“Why?” Sam snaps, his voice getting louder, causing Michael to flinch. 

Michael leans back, clasping his hands together again. They’re clammy now, and he desperately wants to escape to the back room of the shop to swallow another one of his pills. He tries to imagine the feeling of calm, but it does nothing for him. His eyes move around the room, searching for something, anything, that could calm him down. He knows it’s futile, though. 

When the door of the shop suddenly opens, Michael can’t help it. A burst of energy surges quickly through him, and he’s on his feet, his eyes fixed on the doorway. He’s hoping for a customer, or anything that can distract him from this awful conversation, but the color drains from his face when Avery walks through the door. 

_ No, he can’t see me like this!  _ Michael shouts in his mind, and his eyes glance at the clock above him. It’s already 11; the usual time Avery comes to bring him coffee. When he looks back at Avery, he blinks in surprise. Avery is standing next to somebody, and they clearly came in together. Not only that, but it’s the stranger from this morning. Michael’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he crosses his arms over his chest. Avery looks over at Michael with a grin, and Michael forces a smile on his face as well. Then, Avery’s eyes move slightly to the side, and confusion is on his face as well. Michael looks, and sees that Sam is standing next to him, his eyes still fixed on Michael’s face. Michael’s eyes widen, and the anxiety that had been forgotten for a few seconds comes flooding back. Michael has always been good at separating Sam from his life with Avery, but it appears that that’s going to be disrupted. 

Avery takes a few steps forward until he’s in front of Michael, Emmett trailing behind him. Avery’s eyes flick between Michael and Sam, 1000 burning questions flooding his brain. 

“Hey, Michael. I have your coffee,” He says with a timid smile directed towards the one he doesn’t know. 

“Thanks,” Michael says in a voice he’s struggling to keep steady, taking the coffee that Avery is holding out to him. 

Avery gives him a look that asks,  _ Are you alright? _

Michael just smiles, giving a nod that no one notices but Avery.

When no one says anything else, Avery clears his throat, “Um, this is Emmett,” he says, turning his head and gesturing towards Emmett. 

Michael turns his gaze on Emmett, scrutinizing. He raises an eyebrow at him, refusing to greet him with a smile, “Yeah, hi.”

Emmett, though, doesn’t notice the hostility. His eyes aren’t on Michael, nor Avery. His gaze is fixed on Sam, and both Avery and Michael notice the odd expression on his face. Sam finally drags his eyes away from Michael, and when they land on Emmett, he blanches. Michael looks toward him in confusion, then shares a look with Avery. 

“Avery, this is Sam,” Michael speaks, more so to get Sam’s attention away from Emmett. 

Sam looks down at Michael, then over at Avery. He blinks, coming back into focus, then smiles, holding out his hand. Avery returns the smile warmly, taking his hand and giving it a shake before letting go. 

Avery looks between Emmett and Sam, feeling the strong tension. He subtly wraps his arms around himself, not appreciating the feeling. Then, he has to speak up, “Do you two know each other?”

Both Emmett and Sam look over at him, and he raises an eyebrow at Emmett. Then, when they both mutter, “No,” at the same time, he has to hold back an uncomfortable chuckle. 

“Alright. Well,” Sam huffs, looking back towards Michael, “As fun as this has been, I have to go. I’ll… see you around, Michael,” he says, audibly miserable, and turns away without another word. 

Michael stares at him as he leaves the shop, guilt flooding him. He desperately wanted their conversation to go better. He wanted to find a way to let Sam go without hurting him, but he’s never been good with words. Now, it seems like he’ll never get the chance. When he looks back at Avery, he sees the million questions alighting his eyes. Michael sighs, glancing up at Emmett. His eyes are on the door, and Michael narrows his eyes at him.

Emmett looks back at Avery, a tight smile on his face. Avery has both eyebrows raised at him, wanting to ask  _ him _ a lot of questions as well.

“Well, thank you. For the walk, and the coffee. And the many desserts you forced me to eat,” Emmett chuckles, and Avery laughs as well, “I actually have to take off. There’s something I forgot I had to do at home.” 

Avery opens his mouth to speak, but then Emmett reaches forward to Avery’s back pocket. He quickly pulls out Avery’s phone and opens it up. Avery blushes, trying to keep the grin off of his face, and glances at his phone screen. He watches Emmett type in his phone number, then turn off the screen and hand the phone back to him. Avery takes it, meeting Emmett’s eyes with a soft smile. Emmett smiles timidly at that, then waves a little as he starts backing up. He turns away, quickly heading out of the door. Avery stares after him in wonderment as he stuffs the phone back in his pocket.

Avery turns back to Michael, who gives him a suspicious look. Michael sits back down in the same seat he had been, and Avery takes the seat that Sam had been in. Michael tries to not let this distract him.

“Okay, so they totally knew each other, right?” Avery bursts out, leaning towards Michael with a grin. 

Michael shrugs, glancing at the door again, “I don’t know. They didn’t seem to like each other,” he mutters, “Who exactly is Emmett again?”

“Oh,” Avery starts, looking down at the table with a distracted smile, “he’s my friend I guess. We just met.” 

“Right,” Michael mumbles with a grimace.

Avery looks back up at him, frowning, “What’s with the face?”

Michael widens his eyes innocently, “What face?”

Avery scoffs, “You don’t like Emmett? You didn’t even talk to him.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him. He just looks… I don’t know, Ave.”

Avery rolls his eyes, “Well, he’s nice. And funny.”

Michael nods raising his hands in mock defense, “Okay, fine,” He thinks about mentioning this morning, but decides against it.

“Anyway,” Avery murmurs, leaning closer to Michael with excitement on his face, “Who’s Sam?”

The humor leaves Michael’s face, and he bites the inside of his cheek. He taps his finger on the table as he searches for an answer. Before he has the chance, Avery goes on. 

“He looked mad. Well, maybe not mad, but frustrated? And, he could barely keep his eyes off of you. And I saw the look you gave him as he was leaving. What’s going on with you two? And why have I never heard of him?”

“Avery,” Michael starts with a sad sigh, “There’s nothing to tell, all right? He’s just someone I used to know.” 

Avery searches Michael’s expression, not remotely believing him. Michael’s eyes fall to the table, which only confirms Avery’s suspicion. He opens his mouth to speak again, but he sees the discomfort on Michael’s face. More than that; he sees an underlying sadness. Avery shuts his mouth, letting the subject drop. He looks back at the door, Emmett again entering his mind. The look on his face when he saw Sam was calculating, like he was trying to figure something out. And Sam clearly recognised Emmett. He acted like Emmett had come in and punched him in the face. What are the chances that they actually know each other? It seems insane, but Avery can’t wash away the thought. 

* * *

 

Sam moves down the street, anger fueling each step. His heart is pounding against his chest, and his breath is coming out roughly. Michael’s face enters his mind again and again, but he pushes it away each time. It’s not Michael that’s making him angry, though. It’s Emmett. The stranger with the cold blue eyes from the other night. What was he doing there next to Avery? What is he doing in this world at all? Sam had seen him leave. He had seen the explosion of magic. He had seen him disappear. So, why is he back? Could he possibly know who Michael and Avery are? If so, what does he want with them? 

Sam sharply turns, finding himself in an alley. He doesn’t bother with wondering where he is. He just slams his back against the wall, pressing his palms against his face. He rubs his eyes and his temples, trying to calm himself down. The hatred he feels for this stranger only seems to rise, though. 

“You know, I’d say you’re pretty far from home, Sam,” he hears a voice some feet away, and his head whips in the direction he had just come from. 

Emmett is leaning against the edge of the same wall Sam is, a smirk clear as day on his face. He has a display of arrogance that wasn’t there in the sandwich shop. 

“It took me a few minutes, I’ll admit,” Emmett starts again, pushing off of the wall and casually walking closer to Sam, “I wasn’t sure who you were. Then of course, Michael said your name and, well, who else would it be?”

Sam glares icily, pushing off of the wall as well to face him full on. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, mostly to keep himself from doing anything rash. 

“Samuel Meraz, right?” Emmett asks, but the look in his eye says he already knows he’s right. 

“It’s Sam Matthews here,” Sam speaks for the first time, and he’s glad that his voice sounds at least a little bit intimidating.

Emmett nods, a mocking expression on his face, “Ah, yes. Very inconspicuous.”

Sam ignores him, taking a step forward, “You’re from Hiraeth.”

As he says it, he realises how odd the word feels on his tongue. He’s no longer used to using it.  _ Hiraeth.  _ Somehow, it makes him feel unclean, even though he spent so much time in that place. As he says it, he knows he could never go back. 

Emmett claps his hands sarcastically, “Bravo, you still have the gift. You still see the  _ glow.  _ I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re from Hiraeth as well. You were there before my time. Not anymore, though. You live in the  _ very  _ exciting New York city. Though, I guess that’s not your fault.”

Sam wants to smack the smug, knowing expression off of Emmett’s face, but he restrains himself, “What are  _ you  _ doing in New York city?”

The smug look on Emmett’s face does change, but it becomes a cold anger, “No, what the hell are  _ you  _ doing here? You know who they are. Why are you hanging around them?” 

Sam immediately knows who ‘them’ is. Michael and Avery. Sam bristles, “I could ask you the same question,” His hands fall to his sides, balling into fists, “Did you come here for them?” the underlying threat in his voice surprises himself. 

Emmett scoffs, glancing down at Sam’s hands. Then he crosses his arms over his chest, not relaxing the harsh expression on his face, “I didn’t even know they were here until yesterday. You, on the other hand, have obviously known for a while. What, did you think that they would somehow get you a free pass back to Hiraeth?”

Sam narrows his eyes, taking another step forward. Now, Emmett has to look up at Sam. It doesn’t seem to scare him, though.

“I have no interest in going back to Hiraeth,” Sam spits, and Emmett raises an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Oh? So you just stumbled upon them by accident?” Again, there’s mocking in Emmet’s tone.

Sam ignores his question, “Are you planning on going back?”

Emmett scoffs, “That’s my business.”

“Are you planning on taking them with you?”

This gives Emmett pause. His jaw tightens the tiniest bit, and after a few seconds of staring at Sam, he takes a step back. 

“What do you care?” he responds casually. 

“They don’t belong there,” Sam mutters, emotion rising in his voice. 

Emmett laughs a little, humorlessly, “Have you taken a look at them?”

“No one belongs in Hiraeth!” Sam shouts, and he has to force his hands to stay by his side. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

Emmett watches him do this, and takes another step back. It doesn’t appear to be in fear, though. Just a lack of interest, judging by the look on his face. He leans against the wall again, smirking, “Sounds like someone’s a little bitter. From being tossed out.”

Before Sam has a chance to respond, Emmett is turning away. He strides out of the alley, and as he turns the corner, Sam hears him whistling. 

For a moment, he loses control over himself. The fury explodes within him and he lets out a yell. He squeezes his eyes shut, raising his fist and punching a metal pole beside him. He cries out at the pain, holding his fist to his chest. When he opens his eyes, he sees a dent in the pole. He breathes heavily, staggering back a few steps. Before he can do anything else, he stumbles away from the alley way, turning in the opposite direction as Emmett.

_ Hiraeth.  _ The image burns in Sam’s mind. The vivid pictures of his home town that he’s kept buried in the back of his mind for so long now come surging forward. He remembers the brilliant, blue sky, the glistening greens in every tree. Everything about Hiraeth sparkles, and yet the memories choke Sam. He doesn’t want to see them, because it’s all a facade. Although magic practically swims in the air, Sam would never go back to Hiraeth. He’d much rather be here in New York where no one knows about magic. Sam has no need for magic here, and he likes it that way. Of course, Emmett had to come and ruin everything. 

As he rushes down the sidewalk, pulling his jacket tighter around himself, Sam can’t help but think about his good memories of Hiraeth. He would love to deny it, but he was born and raised there, so of course there were some good moments. Actually, it was all good. Up until he realised that the people that surrounded him didn’t actually care about him. They showed him magic and taught him to use it. The gave him a place and said that he was important. But, that was proven false when they cast him out. They threw him out of Hiraeth because he didn’t just want to use magic. He wanted to learn about everything, including things away from Hiraeth. Because Hiraeth will always be more important than the people that live there, they saw this as a threat. Sam got his wish; he got to leave and discover the world beyond Hiraeth. Not in the way he wanted to, though.

Sam shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. It’s too painful to think about what his  _ family  _ did to him, and he’s not willing to put himself through that. Not again. Not after he’s finally broken free of their punishment for him. 

He stares down at the sidewalk as he moves, letting out a sigh. He focuses on his shoes, letting the rest of his problems slip away for the time being.

* * *

 

“You know, you didn’t have to stay,” Michael says as he’s scrubbing down the last table at the shop. 

Avery looks up from where he’s laying his head down on an already clean table, watching Michael work. He glances at the clock, and sees that it’s going on 8:00 pm now. He’s been sitting here since that morning with Emmett, and he hasn’t felt the need to leave. Especially because he didn’t want to, again, be at the apartment alone. Since Michael is closing today, he had to stay all day, but he doesn’t mind. 

“I know,” Avery sighs, “I didn’t feel like going home.”

Michael glances up at him, throwing the wash cloth aside. He walks over, tiredly flopping down in the seat next to Avery. 

“Why not?” Michael asks softly, placing his hand on Avery’s arm comfortingly. 

Avery smiles sadly, looking down at the table. He considers lying again and saying that it’s nothing, but he’s too tired. He lets out a deep breath before speaking, “I’ve… been having a problem.” 

Michael wants to push and get all of the information, seeing that now Avery is finally talking to him. He bites his lip, then again speaks calmly, “Yeah, I know. Will you tell me about it?”

Avery meets his eyes sheepishly, “It’s hard to explain. I’m not completely sure what it is.”

Michael furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Avery leans back in his chair, nervously fiddling with his fingers in his lap. He doesn’t know if talking about it will trigger it, but he  _ does  _ think Michael should know, “I get these… flashes. Of…” he trails off, feeling his chest tightening. 

Michael understands; Of Dan. He moves his chair forward so that he can wrap an arm around Avery’s shoulders, desperate to take his pain away. Avery gratefully leans his head on Michael’s shoulder, letting himself be weak for a moment. 

“They just take over,” Avery whispers, because he’s worried his voice will shake, “These flashes- memories, really. I can’t control it. It’s like I’m there with him. I can’t force myself out of them. It’s like I get trapped in my mind.”

He covers his mouth with his hand, because he’s suddenly crying and he doesn’t want it to be loud. Michael feels a pang in his chest when he sees this, and all he wants to do is find the right words to make Avery feel better. But, he can’t think of anything. Tears well in his own eyes, and he lays his head on Avery’s. 

“I’m sorry, Avery,” Michael murmurs.

Avery shakes his head, pulling away and sheepishly wiping his face. He forces a smile, “Please, it’s not your fault. It just is what it is. I just… I miss him so much.”

Michael takes Avery’s hands in his own, smiling sadly, “Yeah, me too.”

“Emmett helps,” Avery says unexpectedly, and Michael raises an eyebrow, “He doesn’t know anything about it, y’know? He just talk about stupid stuff. He makes me laugh,” he says, a genuine smile growing on his face. 

Michael swallows, keeping it to himself how much this bothers him as he says, “That’s good.” 

Avery nods, his eyes on the floor. He wipes his face again, irritated at himself for crying. Then, he looks back at Michael, “I’m glad I finally told you. I know it doesn’t seem like much but…” he trails off again, not wanting to think about his flashbacks anymore.

Michael scoffs, ruffling Avery’s hair, “Trust me, I get it. And I’m really glad you told me too.” 

Avery smiles, leaning his head on the table again and yawning. Michael stands, “Okay, I just have to finish that table and then we’re out of here.”

He does, and then Michael and Avery are heading out of the shop and to the car Michael has parked on the side of the street. Avery always finds it weird when they use the car, because it’s so unfamiliar to him. He’s always preferred walking and never even wanted to learn. As they get in and start on their way home, Avery notices the look on Michael’s face. Avery tilts his head, trying to read the expression. 

“So,” Michael starts, quickly glancing at Avery before looking back at the road, “Emmett helps.”

Avery squints his eyes, trying to figure out the meaning behind the words, “Mhm, a little.”

Michael nods, “That’s… something.”

Avery huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Alright, what do you have against him?” he asks accusingly.

Michael’s eyes widen in feign innocence, “Wha- nothing! I just… don’t know him. He seems… hostile.”

Avery barks a laugh, “Hostile? Really?”

“I don’t know! He seems kinda dangerous.”

“What? He is not dangerous,” Avery rolls his eyes, a teasing smile on his face. 

Michael snorts, “Yeah, he doesn’t seem like that to you. You see him as the gorgeous mystery guy, right?”

Avery blushes, scoffing and looking forward at the road. 

“I mean, what do you really know about him?” Michael continues, “Even Sam didn’t seem to like him, so it’s not just me.”

Avery looks back at Michael slowly, both of his eyebrows raised. Michael realises too late what he said, and he flushes. He pretends to not notice the look on Avery’s face.

“Oh yeah?” Avery starts, “So, his judgement is good, then? Y’know, I don’t know anything about  _ him  _ either.”

Michael hesitates, then mutters, “There’s nothing to know.” 

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Avery rolls his eyes, “For all I know, he’s just as dangerous as Emmett.”

“Oh, so Emmett is dangerous?”

Avery throws his head back in exasperation, “No! I’m just saying, we don’t know that much about either of them.”

Michael lets it drop, sighing. He wants to prove Avery wrong, but to do that, he would have to relive his past with Sam. He’s not willing to do that; not yet. Not after everything. And, it wouldn’t be worth it anyway. From the looks of things, it seems like Sam is out of his life forever. 

As he thinks this, a feeling of depression washes over him. His chest tightens, and he has to blink multiple times to stop tears from forming in his eyes.  _ This is what I want,  _ he thinks to himself. He repeats it in his head, hoping that it will make it somehow true. 

Multiple times, Michael has imagined how different things would be if Dan hadn’t died. Would Sam still be in his life? It’s hard to say. Now, there’s no question. If Michael is going to be there for Avery, he can’t have any distractions. Sam being a part of his life wouldn’t help anything. Avery might think that Michael doesn’t actually care about him, because how can he care about Avery while focusing on his happiness alone? He can’t. So, he doesn’t

He glances at Avery again, who’s now laying his head against the car window with his eyes shut. Michael sighs, turning up the radio a few notches and letting the music drown out his overactive mind. 

Time passes quickly after that, and soon after Avery finds himself in his room. He doesn’t quite remember getting out of the car and walking into the apartment, but it doesn’t matter. He drags himself across his floor, flopping down on his bed face first. At first, he thinks he’ll fall asleep without any issue, but then Emmett enters his mind. 

He plays their day in his mind, resting his hands under him to be more comfortable as the thoughts fill him with warmth. He goes through each conversation; each laugh and smile. When he remembers when they were in the coffee shop, something tugs at his mind. He remembers the way Emmett described where he was from.  _ A brighter place.  _ Again, he abruptly stops seeing Emmett, and Dan is standing in his place. He tries to stop himself, but he can’t as again, a memory takes over his mind. 

* * *

 

_ It’s Avery’s 5th birthday, and Dan has him sitting on his shoulders. Avery is laughing all the way, brushing his fingers on the leaves as Dan walks through the trees. The other day, he stumbled upon a beautiful hillside overlooking the city on one side, and the rest of the forest on the other. He decided today was the perfect day to show Avery, since he’s always loved beautiful things, just like Dan. Although it takes a while to get here, he thought it’d be worth it.  _

_ “We’re almost there, Ave. You’re gonna love it,” Dan calls up to him, grinning.  _

_ “What is it?” Avery giggles, pulling at Dan’s hair playfully.  _

_ Dan chuckles, “You’re just gonna have to wait and see.” _

_ Finally, after a few minutes of more working, Dan pushes through the trees and his eyes find the clearing. He sighs in contentment when he sees it, and he hears Avery gasp. He grins, grabbing Avery’s waist and pulling him forward. He giggles, and then practically jumps out of Dan’s arms to get a better look. _

_ Avery stumbles forward to the near edge, looking down at the bright city. To him, it looks like a glittering palace, and he plops himself down on the grass to grin fondly at it. Dan sits down beside him, looking from the city to the forest. Then, he leans back, laying down on the soft grass to look up at the sky.  _

_ “Is Mikey coming? He should see it. It’s so pretty,” Avery says excitedly, turning towards Dan. _

_ “No, Michael’s not coming. He’s still at school. I took you out early because it’s your birthday. But, I’ll show him, too.” _

_ “Good,” Avery grins, turning back to the view.  _

_ Dan breathes deeply, a soft smile on his face. Then, he starts to speak again, “Y’know, I used to live in a place as beautiful as this.  It was more beautiful, actually. It was so vibrant. It was like a dream, but it wasn't a dream. It was real.”  _

_ Dan sits up, putting his hand on Avery’s shoulder. Avery meets his gaze curiously, and wonders why he suddenly looks sad.  _

_ “Someday,” Dan starts again, “We’re going to go there. You’re going to get to see it. It’s magical. You’re gonna love it even more than this. Sometimes, people call it the brighter place.” _

_ “Magical?” Avery whispers in wonderment, his eyes sparkling with excitement. _

_ Dan grins, looking back at the view in front of them, “Yep. Magical. I’ll show you, someday.” _

* * *

 

Avery comes out of his flashback with a start. His face is still pressed against his blankets, and he’s shrouded in darkness. He blinks, lifting his head and searching for his brother. After a few seconds, he realises he won’t find him. He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to let the tears escape from his eyes. He reaches up, grabbing his pillow and laying it under him. The pain of the memory makes him stiff and uncomfortable, but he ignores it. All he does is lie there, pretending that he thinks sleep will eventually come, and when it does, it won’t be filled with nightmares. 

In the next room, Michael is sitting with his back pressed against the door. His breathing is shallow, and tears are spilling rapidly from his eyes. His heart is beating too fast in his chest, but at the moment, he can’t remember how to fix it. He wraps his arms around his legs, pressing his face against his knees. He bites his lip, trying to keep the sobs quiet. He starts rocking back and forth, his fingernails scratching at the skin on his arms. 

His head won’t keep quiet. It keeps screaming at him about different things without relent. It’s like there are two people arguing, one telling him to call Sam, and the other making him feel guilty for wanting to neglect Avery. Ultimately, all they accomplish is reminding Michael that he always seems to be hurting someone. Next to him, his phone is buzzing. For the third time tonight, Sam is texting him. Of course, Sam doesn’t know what this is doing to Michael. Michael reaches a shaky hand towards his phone, but then he forces back to his side. He grips the ends of his hair, wanting to scream. He leans his head against the door, craving a release from the pressure in his chest. 

Again, his phone buzzes, and Michael covers his ears with his palms. He pushes away from the door, leaning on his side and curling up in a ball. He keeps his hands pressed to his ears, silently begging his head to stop screaming at him.

  
  



	3. Prize to Be Won

_ Avery sees the dancing stars in his dreams yet again.This time, he can watch each individual pattern. He watches the stars glow and dim, shift and change. When they move, they find one another. They spin in circles before separating to find a new partner. Behind them, the sky shifts from dark blue to bright purple, then down to black. Avery can’t tell if it’s truly nighttime or not. As suddenly as they came, the stars begin to burn out. They go one by one, until eventually there are only two left. Avery stares as they begin to grow and morph until they’re not stars at all. They’re eyes. His brother’s eyes.  _

_ The scene changes, and Avery is suddenly standing in front of Dan. Dan isn’t looking at him, though. He’s looking to the side at someone, and Avery notes that he’s a lot younger than he’s ever seen him. Avery hears talking, but it’s muffled. It’s like he has his head is under water, yet he can see the picture clearly. The voices begin to grow in volume, and Dan’s face distorts into what looks like pain. Avery wants to move towards him, but he’s unable. A woman comes into view, but her whole figure is blurry. She leans down, handing Dan something that is also blurry. Dan stares down at the bundle in his arms, and there are tears streaming down his face. _

_ The scene changes again, and Avery is standing in the middle of a burning village. He watches as the fire tears through houses, and around him people are yelling. Not in the way people would scream if they were scared, though. No, it’s almost like they are shouting orders at one another. Like they’re fighting back the fire. The picture becomes increasingly fuzzy until all Avery can see are flashing oranges and yellows and reds. Even as the image turns entirely black, he still hears the shouts of the people. _

* * *

 

Michael wakes with the feeling of discomfort in his back and shoulders. He opens his eyes slowly, letting reality wash over him. It takes him a moment to place where he is; partly because of the bizarre dream, and partly because he’s not where he usually wakes up. In confusion, he lifts his head, looking down at his surroundings. He sees that he’s lying awkwardly on the hardwood floors of his bedroom with his phone and backpack strewn around him. He sits up, wincing as his neck objects, and leans against the door behind him. He puzzles over why he never got to his bed as he reaches out for his phone. When he looks at the screen, he remembers. 

 

19 unanswered texts from Sam. 2 missed calls. 

 

Michael bites his lip anxiously, remembering the attack on his mind the night before. He deliberates opening his phone and reading the texts, but instead he turns it off. A crushing weight hits him as he does this, and he has to stare at the ceiling to keep the moisture in his eyes from spilling over. So badly, he wants to call Sam back and forget about everything that’s keeping them from each other. He wishes he could forget about Avery for just a few seconds. 

Quickly, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts.  _ No.  _ He can’t do it. He feels guilty for

even thinking about it. He needs to be there for Avery, and Sam can’t be a part of that. 

Michael sighs, lifting himself off of the floor. His body protests, but he ignores it as he walks over to his bathroom. Before anything else, he reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of his anxiety medication. He pops two of the pills in his mouth and swallows them, looking at his face in the mirror. There’ll be no hiding the exhaustion in his eyes from Avery, but he’ll at least change his clothes so it’s not obvious he fell asleep with them on. 

Around half an hour later, Michael drags himself out of his room when the smell of breakfast wafts into his room. He steps into the kitchen, and narrows his eyes in confusion when he sees Avery working at the stove. Michael blinks in disbelief, his eyes turning towards the clock on the wall. 8:30. Avery hardly ever wakes up before 10 if he can help it. 

“What are you doing?” Michael asks, leaning against the wall of the kitchen. 

Avery jumps in shock, turning around with wide eyes at Michael. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Michael standing there, then glares, “Jeez! I thought you were at work!”

Michael snorts at Avery’s reaction, “I’m going in at 10:30 today. What are you doing awake?”

Avery shrugs, turning back to the sizzling pan on the stove, “I woke up early, thought I’d make food. We had eggs.”

“Ah, so that’s what the smell is,” Michael teases, pretending to wrinkle his nose. 

Avery shoots him a look, “Shut up, it’s gonna be good.”

Michael laughs, sitting in one of the dining room chairs to watch Avery work. He puts his arms across the back of the chair and rests his head there tiredly. He hesitates before asking, “How are you this morning?”

A small smile forms on Avery’s face as he scoops the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates. He walks over to the table, setting the plates down and sitting down himself, “I feel pretty good, actually. Better than I usually do.”

Michael raises his eyebrows, “That’s good,” he says before getting cut off by a yawn.

Avery squints at him, “You, on the other hand, look exhausted. Did you sleep last night?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Michael immediately says, lifting his head off of the chair. When Avery’s expression doesn’t change, Michael sighs, “Well I got a few hours.”

“Are you okay?” Avery asks, automatically worried. 

Michael smiles tightly, thinking about all of the ways he’s not okay, “Yeah, I’m great.” 

Avery examines Michael’s face, not believing him. He lets it drop, though, and looks down at his food. He grabs a piece with his fork, then his gaze goes to Michael again.

He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He deliberates, then asks, “Did you talk to Sam last night?”

Michael blinks in surprise, not used to Avery knowing about Sam, “What?”

Avery pops the bite of food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before thinking of a good response. Michael has made it clear that he doesn’t want Avery to have anything to do with Sam, but he feels like he has to say something. 

“It just looked like you guys had something important to discuss yesterday,” Avery finally answers, and he cringes inwardly at his formal words. 

Michael looks down at the table, composing his face before looking back at Avery, “It’s really-”

“None of my business?” Avery interrupts bitterly, his eyes on his plate.

Michael scoffs, “-Not important.” 

Avery rolls his eyes, looking back at Michael, “Come on, Mike. Who is he?” 

“Seriously, Ave,” Michael starts, his voice rising in irritation, “He’s no one. Let it go.”

Avery stares at him is astonishment. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he just scoffs while turning away, “Okay, fine.”

A twinge of guilt resonates in Michael, and he looks down at his uneaten eggs. He sighs, stabbing one of them with his fork and hastily taking a bite. As much as he doesn’t want Avery to know about Sam, he hates the tension that he’s creating between them. He bites the inside of his cheek when he realises that Avery opened up last night, and now Michael is the one hiding things. And, he’s been hiding this for a lot longer.

Michael peeks up at Avery through his lashes, words forming in his head. Just as he opens his mouth, he quickly snaps it shut. He looks back down at his plate, his unspoken confession making his mouth feel like cotton. 

* * *

 

Where Emmett sits on an uncomfortable, wooden bench, he sees the sun shining down on

Central Park. The wind gently blowing around him is still icy, but today is one of those rare days in a New York Winter where the clouds are not covering the entire sky. 

Although it’s still cold, there is still the occasional family that walks through the park, wrapped in coats and scarves and hats. A couple will pass, hand in hand, looking around at the scenery as if it’s the most romantic view in the world. A child tugs on his or her mother, complaining about the fact that there’s not snow on the grass. Before, Emmett wouldn’t give a second thought to these people. He would watch them just to pass the time, occasionally making a negative judgment about what he assumes they’re thinking. He would watch until there was nothing left to see, and then he would go home. But, that was before he met Avery Brooke. Before, impossibly, his point of view had begun to drastically change. Now, as he sits here in silence, he wonders if any of these people think like Avery. Although he never would, he wants to get up and ask if anyone else can feel the warmth of the holidays swimming through the air. He wants to know if instead of bitter cold, they feel joy. Surely, that’s what the kids are feeling. Why else would they be in the chilly, winter air? But, what about the parents? The couples? The random teenagers walking past with hands stuffed in pockets and faces covered in hats and hoods? What are they feeling?

What would Avery be feeling if he were sitting here next to Emmett? Something makes Emmett believe that Avery would find endless things to comment on. A hundred questions to ask; either about the trees, or the people, or the sky. Or, Emmett himself. It’s the questions that have wormed their way into Emmett’s mind. The stick there, taunting him, begging answers. But, they are not the sort of questions that need a direct answer. It’s an impossible puzzle that Emmett wants to solve, but can’t. It’s completely abstract, just like Avery seems to be. 

_ Avery Brooke,  _ Emmett thinks the name to himself. Throughout his years in Hiraeth, he’s heard the name many times. That’s the only place he ever heard it until he actually met him. In Emmett’s mind, the name has always belonged to Hiraeth. He always assumed that Avery himself would belong  _ in  _ Hiraeth. He still believes that, but now there’s a part of his brain that questions it.

Avery’s love for New York surprises Emmett. The way he talks about his home isn’t the way people from Hiraeth speak. The children with parents from Hiraeth that were born away from it, and have no idea what Hiraeth is, still feel for Hiraeth. They feel out of place until they get to Hiraeth. Avery is different for some reason. Emmett could see it on Avery’s face; he doesn’t feel like he doesn’t belong. New York is his home, and he loves it here. 

But, who’s to say what he felt when he was younger? Maybe he did feel out of place, but now that he’s older, he’s grown to love New York. That’s what had to have happened, right? Because, anyone from Hiraeth couldn’t belong in New York, of all places. They don’t belong anywhere but Hiraeth. So, shouldn’t Emmett bring him there? Isn’t that the right thing to do? Especially because of how important Avery is to Hiraeth. Not just Avery, but Michael as well. 

Emmett sighs, completely undecided and somehow even more confused. He leans his head back to look up at the sky, and catches sight of two birds flying high above his head, moving in graceful patterns before dipping down towards a large tree. A ghost of a smile touches Emmett’s lips as he watches them. The only aspect of this world that seems to be completely the same as Hiraeth is the birds. Emmett has always been convinced that they can move through worlds, which is why they appear in this one and his own. When he sees them here, it always seems to calm him down. It makes him feel connected to his home, even when he’s far away. 

He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes shut. Instead of letting the breeze chill him, he tilts his head towards the sun, trying to catch any bit of warmth on his eyelids. His peace doesn’t last very long, because a sound near his table alerts him. The sound of feet crunching on dry leaves coming closer to where he sits. Immediately, his eyes snap open and the relaxed expression on his face turns into an unreadable one. He turns in the direction of the sound, and his mouth morphs into a scowl. 

Sam stands and walks towards Emmett with a look of frustration on his face. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and his jaw is clenched. Emmett blinks in confusion, wondering how Sam even knew where he was. He fixes his expression again, and turns away from Sam, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Sam stops next to the table, glowering at Emmett, “You’re still here.”

Emmett scoffs, “is that supposed to be threatening?”

Sam’s hands ball into fists, and it takes a lot of willpower to keep them in his pockets. Then, they loosen, and the glare falls off of his face. He sighs; suddenly so tired of being angry. His strange control over his emotions surprises him, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind. Instead, he takes another step forward and sits down on the seat connected to the table Emmett is seated on. His eyes look forward at the park, and he lets the view calm him. Emmett stares down at Sam, baffled. He tries to think of a snarky comment to get Sam to leave, but he’s curious as to why Sam is here in the first place.

“It’s Emmett, right?” Sam asks in a soft tone that surprises Emmett further. 

“Yeah,” Emmett mutters, squinting suspiciously at Sam. 

“Does your life suck or something?” Sam asks, turning to face Emmett with a strange intensity.

Emmett blinks, “What?” he asks, not able to think of anything better to say. 

“That’s why you’re here, right?” Sam continues, “You know there’s something in it for you if you bring Michael and Avery back to Hiraeth?”

The scowl returns to Emmett’s face, and he turns away from Sam, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Sam chuckles humorlessly, seeming unbothered by Emmett’s hostility, “I know there’s some grand prize for whoever brings Avery Brooke and Michael Foster back to Hiraeth. That’s your plan, isn’t it?”

Emmett stares down at him, anger bubbling to the surface, disrupting his usually controlled emotions, “You don’t know anything about me!”

Sam finally meets Emmett’s gaze, a tired look in his eyes, “Why else would you be here? Why would anyone from Hiraeth come to New York, of all places? There’s nothing else for you here.”

Emmett looks away, his jaw clenched. He looks fixedly out into the distance, prepared to ignore Sam until he goes away. Then, something else comes to mind, “How do you even know about the prize?”

Unexpectedly, Sam’s calm turns into something harder, “You forget; I was born there. I know how the people of Hiraeth think. I know how the royalties operate.”

Emmett glances down at Sam again, furrowing his eyebrows. He doesn’t understand how anyone could be so hostile towards his home. Then again, he didn’t have the same experiences as Sam did. “I don’t care about some stupid prize,” Emmett mutters, looking down at the dry leaves in front of him.

“Oh, yeah? Then why are you so interested in Michael and Avery?”

“Why are you?” Emmett throws back, anger rising again.

Sam’s jaw tightens, and he jumps off of the seat in frustration. He moves to stand in front of Emmett, this time looking down at  _ him.  _

He ignored Emmett’s questions, “I won’t let you take their choices away from them. They are not things to be stolen. They are people. They belong here, in New York,” he says, gesturing with his hands.

Emmett jumps down from his perch as well, forcing Sam to take a step back. He glares, “They deserve to know who they are. You’re the one taking their choices away!”

Sam’s words come out quickly in panicked desperation, but it’s masked as anger, “You want to tell Avery, right? That’s why you’re spending so much time with him? Do you honestly think he could handle it? After everything that he’s been through this year?”

Emmett stares at him blankly, folding his arms across his chest. He stares in stoney silence, but Sam sees through it. Again, his anger unexpectedly falls away. 

“You don’t know,” Sam breathes, carefully watching Emmett’s expression. 

“Enlighten me,” Emmett huffs, frustrated at the fact that there could possibly be a detail he’s missing.

Sam takes another step back, his eyes falling to the ground. Emmett narrows his eyes impatiently.

“Why do you think they’re missing?” Sam starts, meeting Emmett’s eyes again, “They were supposed to go back, what, almost three years ago?” 

Emmett thinks it over, doing the math in his head, then nods without understanding.

Sam continues, “Avery’s brother, Dan, was supposed to bring them back. Have you seen him in Hiraeth?” he asks, as if he’s a patronizing teacher.

“No,” Emmett spits, still glaring.

“Have you seen him here?” Sam asks, and this time the question comes out as a whisper, and there’s a solemn expression on his face that Emmett can’t understand. 

Emmett blinks, going over Sam’s words in his mind, trying to solve this unusual puzzle. Then, it hits him like a punch to the gut. His arms fall to his sides, and the anger rushes out of him with a disparaging sigh. As he reads the look on Sam’s face, he knows he’s right. 

“He didn’t make the trip back. He’s dead.” Emmett states instead of asks. 

Sam only nods. Avery’s face finds its way to Emmett’s mind; the carefree smile that’s always resting on his lips. The obvious joy for life that Avery always seems to hold. If Emmett had met him just a few months earlier, would he have found a broken shell instead? His heart breaks for Avery, and he leans against the table that’s still behind him. 

“Dan never told them about Hiraeth. They don’t know anything. They wouldn’t understand, Emmett. You can’t take them,” Sam says in desperation.

“Maybe,” Emmett starts, then trails off. He breathes, composing himself, then starts again, “Maybe Hiraeth is exactly what they need.”

Sam blinks in surprise, then anger floods his expression, “Nobody needs Hiraeth. It’s not good for them.”

“It’s good for Hiraeth,” Emmett shrugs as if none of this matters to him, when the exact opposite is true. 

He takes a step to the side, ready to leave the park and this conversation. Sam, still bewildered by the fact that Emmett doesn’t see things in the same way, grips Emmett’s arm. He tugs him around to face him, not caring that all of his emotions are clearly written all over his face, “Don’t do this, please.”

Emmett’s eyes fixate on Sam’s hand, and his fury boils over in a rush, “Stop telling me what to do!”

Suddenly, the ground around them shakes, and Sam’s eyes widen at the shifting dirt. He feels a strange tightening around his hand, and when he looks down, he sees a green vine twisting around his limb. Thorns protrude from the vine, and Sam cries out as they stab into his hand. It falls off of Emmett, as quickly as the vine appeared, it’s suddenly gone. He sees blood coming out of his hand, and he stares at it incredulously. When he looks back up to glare at Emmett, all he sees is his back heading straight for the shadows of the woods.

Sam doesn’t go after him, but he watches as Emmett disappears. A noise of frustration leaves his lips, and his hands clench into fists. His injured hand complains, and he quickly opens it and looks down at the bloody mess. They are only small wounds, but they sting. He covers that hand with his other, then glance around the rest of the clearing. Luckily, no one is passing by at this moment. He looks down at his hands, then closes his eyes. There’s a small, white flash emits from the damaged hand, but it’s mostly hidden. Sam opens his eyes, and moves his hands away from each other. When he sees the wounds are gone, the corners of his mouth tilt up in a small smile. He looks around the park again as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, then starts moving in the opposite direction as Emmett. 

* * *

 

Throughout the day at work, Michael has been distracted. As he takes orders, fights with the cashier, and scrubs down tables, his mind has been at home. Still sitting at that table with Avery, searching for the right words to explain his behavior. He can’t help it; this is how he always gets when things are bad with Avery. 

Not that they’re bad, per say. There’s just never really been a secret between them before, so Michael has no experience with not letting it affect their relationship. It would be so much easier if said secret would stop popping up in his life, causing unnecessary havoc. 

Michael’s chest begins to grow heavy as these words pass through his mind. His hand squeezes the washcloth he hardly realised he’s holding, and he looks down as soapy water spills across his skin. He watches a drop slide down his hand, momentarily distracted by the movement. The afternoon sun shines down on the water, and it glistens. Michael’s heart thuds in his chest, and for a moment, it’s the only thing he hears. His hand starts to shake, but not in the way it does when he’s having a panic attack. In a way he’s never seen before. Like, there’s something under the surface waiting to be released. Michael watches, fascinated, dropping the wet towel to the table and bringing his hand closer to his face.

“Hey!” An irritated voice suddenly cuts into Michael’s awareness, and he jumps, letting his hand fall down to his side. He blinks, focusing on Roseanne, who’s staring at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Yeah, what?” Michael mutters sheepishly, looking down at the table that he’s only washed halfway.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend outside? He’s been standing there for a couple of minutes. It’s starting to bother me,” Roseanne says loudly. Or, maybe it just seems loud after Michael’s strange preoccupation. 

“My boyfriend?” Michael says, confused, then turns his face to the window of the shop.

There, leaning against the lamp post facing the shop, Sam stands. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes are on the floor. The look on his face shows that something is definitely wrong. In the back of his mind, Michael notes how Sam always shows exactly what he’s feeling. In another lifetime, he’d have commented on how endearing that quality actually is. But, now he tries his best to not think about it.

“Should I go out there?” Michael whispers, unable to tear his eyes away from Sam.

Roseanne shrugs, “I don’t know. He might be waiting for you, but…” she trails off, and it’s quickly obvious as to why.

Michael watches as Sam pushes off from the lamp post, his eyes fixating on the shop doors. Immediately, they lock with Michael’s. Michael blushes, looking down. He hears the bell of the shop as Sam enters, walking right up to Michael with a sort of urgency. 

“We need to talk. Right now,” Sam says quietly, and the tone of his voice forces Michael to meet his eyes again.

“Sam…” Michael murmurs, preparing to repeat the words that keep cutting him up inside. 

“It’s not about us,” Sam interrupts, his voice getting quieter.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow, and immediately worry begins to course through him. He takes note of Sam’s lowered voice, and he turns his head to face Roseanne, who’s still standing next to him. Her eyebrows lift in curiosity as her eyes move between Sam and Michael.

“Alright,” she finally sighs, “I can take a hint,” before turning away and walking towards the other end of the shop to wipe down a different table. 

Michael turns back to Sam with raised eyebrows, “What’s going on?”

Sam fidgets uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes scan the room before they finally fall back to Michael, “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Michael huffs, taking Sam’s arm before spinning on his heel. He heads towards the sandwich counter, and he doesn’t stop until he’s pulling Sam into the back room full of lockers. Sam watches as the door clicks shut behind him, and he briefly wonders if he’s going to get in trouble for being back here. When he looks back at Michael, that thought quickly disappears. 

“So?” Michael asks pointedly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Sam takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair before speaking, “It’s about Emmett.”

Michael blinks in surprise, not at all thinking this is where the conversation was going, “Emmett? Avery’s friend, Emmett? You said you didn’t know him.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Sam murmurs, avoiding Michael’s eyes, “I didn’t think it was important at the time, but…” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling. 

Michael takes a step closer to Sam, intent on Sam’s words, “But, what? What’s wrong?”

Sam looks back at Michael, seeing the intensity behind his eyes. He thought coming here would be easy. He thought he could just warm Michael about Emmett and then leave and everything would somehow work itself out. But, now, saying the words he needs to say seems wrong. Mainly because he doesn’t know if his words are true. He has no idea whether Emmett is a threat to Michael or Avery in any way. Even if he’s not, how can Sam take that chance? He has to say something. If he doesn’t, he has no idea what will happen.

“He’s dangerous,” Sam finally whispers, watching the change in Michael’s expression, “I think he might… hurt Avery,” 

Michael blanches, his mouth falling open in shock. The room suddenly feels too cold, and he doesn’t know if he’s able to speak with his mouth feeling like cotton. He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus, “What do you mean? Wh- what happened?” his voice is small, and he’s afraid if it’s any louder it will shake.

Sam’s heart aches when he sees the fear in Michael’s eyes, and he wants to reach and pull him into his arms. He wants to take the words back and never say anything. He would let Michael be cold and hostile towards him for the rest of his life if it meant never having to see this expression on Michael’s face. But, he can’t take it back now, so he has to press forward.

“Nothing, yet,” Sam starts, desperately trying to think of something that will calm Michael down, “I don’t know if anything will. I just think you should both stay away from him.”

Michael wraps his arms around himself, his mind racing a million miles a second. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He clears his throat, “I don’t think that’s going to be easy. Avery really likes him,” His hands begin to shake, and he clenches them into fists. 

Finally, Sam can’t stand it anymore. He steps forward, placing his hands on Michael’s upper arms for some sort of comfort, “Hey, don’t- try not to panic, okay? I don’t know anything for sure.”

Instead of pulling away like Sam expects, Michael leans slightly forward toward him, shutting his eyes. He takes a shaky, deep breath. Once, twice. Before opening his eyes again, able to get a grip on himself.

“Sam,” Michael starts, searching his eyes, “How do you know Emmett? How do you know he’s dangerous?” 

Sam looks down at the ground, biting the inside of his cheek, “I can’t explain that right now. I just need you to trust me.” 

Michael opens his mouth again, more questions ready to pour out. When Sam meets his eyes again, however, the questions seem to fade away. There’s a look in Sam’s eye that Michael can’t quite explain, but this is Sam. No matter what has happened and how much he’s trying to push Sam away, Michael will always trust him. He just nods, and Sam breathes a sigh of relief.

“You should call Avery,” Sam says, unwillingly dropping his arms from Michael’s shoulders. 

“Avery’s going to be here soon, but Sam-” Michael starts, desperation rising in his voice.

“I have to go,” Sam interrupts, tearing his eyes away, “I’m sorry. I’ll… try to find Emmett or something. I’ll tell him to stay away from you guys,” as if he hasn’t already tried.

Michael hesitates, wanting to tell Sam to stay with him, but he can’t want that. Even while things are going insane, he has to stick with his plan to stay away from Sam. Especially now that Avery might be in danger. Being with Sam would only be a distraction.

“Okay,” Michael murmurs, “Thanks for this. I guess you didn’t have to say anything so… thanks.”

Sam looks back at him, but Michael’s eyes are on the floor. His hand twitches, wanting to reach out and touch Michael again, but instead he takes a step away from him, “You’re welcome.” 

Then, Sam turns around, pulls the door open and is heading away from Michael. Although Michael is watching, he still jumps when the door slams shut. 

* * *

 

Usually, as Avery makes his way down to the sandwich shop everyday, he has to find a way to put himself in a good mood before facing Michael. Today, the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile he would have to fight to get rid of. He can't help it, he's feeling giddy. He hasn't felt this way in such a long time that it's baffling, but he doesn't care. 

When Michael left this morning, Avery was irritable. Clearly, there's something going on with him that he doesn't want to talk about. The thought still bothers Avery, but he wasn't going to let it ruin his whole day. Instead of pondering what it could possibly be, he texted Emmett. Actually, it took him awhile to get the courage  _ to _ text Emmett. Normally, when Avery wants to talk to someone, it's not a problem. But, things seem to be different with Emmett. Even thinking about him now fills his stomach with butterflies.

Avery realizes he's grinning, and he blushes. His eyes find the ground, and he tries to reign in his expression. He almost wants to giggle out loud, and he feels so light that there's a skip in his step as he walks. 

He subtly shakes his head at himself, wondering how one person can have this much of an effect on him. It doesn't make any sense, and part of his brain is telling him that he really shouldn't be feeling this way about someone he hardly knows. But, he also knows that the heart is irrational. It makes you feel things that your brain can't always comprehend. Who cares, anyway? He shouldn't be fighting feeling this good. Especially after feeling so damn bad for such a long time. He's tired of it. 

When he reaches the shop door, he pulls it open, automatically searching for Michael. The grin is back on his face, because he's unable to hold it back any longer. He wants to jump up and down and yell to the whole shop how extraordinarily happy he's feeling. He scans the room, trying to find Michael, excited to tell him about his good mood and the reason behind it. When he doesn't see him, he furrows his eyebrows, stepping forward into the shop and sitting down at the table closest to him. 

"Roseanne," Avery calls when he sees her finishing up someone's order.

She looks over at him, raising an eyebrow in question. Usually, Avery doesn't speak to Roseanne unless strictly necessary. He doesn't particularly like the attitude she always exudes. 

"Where's Michael?" he asks impatiently.

She looks like she's about to answer, but just as she is the door to the backroom opens, and Michael steps out. Immediately, the smile falls off of Avery's face.

Avery jumps up from his seat, walking over to the counter and leaning forward. He scans Michael's face before saying anything, seeing the look of panic written on it. There's also a tired look in his eyes, which Avery knows comes after an anxiety attack. 

"Michael, what happened?" Avery says in a rush, keeping his voice quiet. 

"Are you here with Emmett?" Michael asks unexpectedly, and Avery tilts his head in confusion. 

"No, why?" he asks, worry coloring his tone. He doesn't understand what this has to do with Michael's mood. 

"I don't think..." Michael starts, and his face is suddenly intense, "You can't trust him, Ave. He might be dangerous." 

Avery leans away from the counter, scrutinizing Michael's expression and the words.  His mood is rapidly falling, and as Michael stares back at him, any trace of the happiness that he felt floats away. 

"Based on what?" Avery asks, and he notices that his voice sounds strangely empty of anything.

"You were right," Michael explains, leaning forward on the counter and speaking quietly, "Sam knows him. He says that we should stay away from him.

A flicker of anger rises in Avery's chest, and his jaw tightens, "Sam told you this?"

"Yes," Michael nods hurriedly, panic still written in his eyes.

Avery bitterly smiles, "The same Sam that you keep saying is unimportant? The one I know nothing about? I should trust his opinion? You won't even tell me how you met him!" His voice is getting louder, and Roseanne is looking at them with wide eyes, but he doesn't care.

Michael furrows his eyebrows, not understanding Avery's anger, "Ave, that's not the point! The point is-"

"What?" Avery snaps, cutting him off, "That I can't have this one thing? Because your friend, who you don't even seem to like, told you so? Are you kidding me?"

"Forget about Sam!" Michael says, moving to anger himself, "Why won't you trust me? I don't think Emmett's a good guy!"

"You don't even know him! And, how can I trust you when you don't tell me anything? You say it's not about Sam but that's exactly what it's about. Since when do you keep things from me? Why do you trust him so much?" Avery finishes harshly, completely furious. 

Michael stares at him incredulously, scrambling to find the right words. This wasn't supposed to turn into a fight. Why is Avery doing this? Why can't he just understand? His eyes fall to the table as he opens his mouth to speak, "I just-" 

"You know what?" Avery interrupts again, his voice much quieter. It sounds defeated, not like he's lost the argument, but like he's lost everything, "I gotta go. Forget about the sandwich."

Michael looks up, but Avery's back is already facing him, "Avery-"

"No, Michael," Avery calls back, before reaching the door and pushing it open. He's gone before Michael can even wrap his head around what the hell just happened. 

Tears sting Avery's eyes as he marches away from the shop. He wipes them away angrily, folding his arms across his chest. How stupid he had been to think that today would just be perfect. Although he had felt it all day, now he can hardly remember the light, bouncy feeling he had been enjoying. It all but ran away from him. 

Why did Michael have to say those things? What does Sam have to do with any of this anyway? Of course, Michael has to be an overbearing older brother and turn this whole stupid thing into a fight. I guess Avery should have expected that, Michael is good at turning anything into a fight. He did it all the time with Dan. 

And just like that, suddenly Avery's thoughts aren't his own anymore. He stumbles, his hands hitting the side of a building. He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting with his brain, begging himself to stay in control of his thoughts. But after the fight, after seeing Michael so upset, after being upset himself, he's too tired to fight for long.

He has just enough control to stagger into an alleyway before his mind completely takes over. 

_ Michael stands, leaning against the living room wall, his head turned to the side and his jaw tight. His eyes are steely, and he refused to look at Dan, who's standing in front of him the same amount of anger on his face. _

_ "Where the hell have you been, Michael?" Dan asks, trying to look Michael in the eye. _

_ "I don't know, out," Michael shrugs, his words sharp. _

_ "Yeah, I know that you've been out. Where were you? Who were you with?" Dan asks again, and he's obviously fighting to stay calm. _

_ Michael turns to face him with a glare, "Why does it matter? Why do you always have to know exactly where I am?" _

_ "Because it's my job!" Dan shouts back. _

_ Michael scoffs, taking a step forward, "No, actually it's not! You're not my dad! You're not even my brother! I don't have any goddamn family, remember? This is bullshit!" _

_ "You don't have fam- of course you have family! We're your family!" Dan says, and it's obvious that this is a conversation he's tired of having.  _

_ "Oh yeah? How did that happen, Dan? Do you mind filling in that detail? Because I'm sick and tired of you not telling us a goddamn thing!" Michael shouts, pointing a finger at Avery when he says the word 'us'.  _

_ Avery, who's sitting in the kitchen with his head on the table, glares at him, not wanting to be pulled into their fight. He turns away from them, wishing the whole night would just end. Although he can't see them anymore, there's nothing to stop him from hearing them. _

_ "It doesn't matter how it happened. It just did, and I'm in charge and you're just going to have to deal with it!" Dan responds, and Avery can see Michael's eye roll without actually seeing it.  _

_ "Screw that, Dan! I want to know what's going! Why can we never go out? Why are so weird about who we hang out with? Oh, and let's not forget, what the hell happened to my parents? Or, your parents for that matter!" Michael yells, and Avery's eyes close. He doesn't want to hear about any of this. He doesn't want answers. He just wants this little family to be happy.  _

_ "Y'know what, fine. Maybe I shouldn't care so much, huh? Is that what you want? Do you want me to just pretend like I don't give a shit. Fine, go do whatever the hell you want," Dan says, and Avery can hear his voice drifting down the hall. He jumps when he hears a door slamming. _

_ "Oh, very fucking mature, Dan! Yeah, you're right that's what I want! You're so fucking smart!" Michael's voice drifts as well, and Avery can't help but cover his ears with his hands.  _

_ Silent tears stream down his face as the fighting continues, and he starts humming to himself to try to block it out. He doesn't know when, but he ends up drifting to sleep on the table, and as he sleeps, his dreams are just as loud as his brothers.  _

* * *

 

When Avery breaks away from his flashback, he finds himself curled into a ball in the alleyway he found his way to. His knees are pulled tight to his chest, and his arms are curled around himself. He lifts his head, seeing the wet marks on his jeans from tears. He  unlocks his arms, and lets his legs relax as well. He wipes his eyes, looking up at the sky. He tries to guess how much time has passed, but the sky is usually always grey this time of year anyway, no matter what time it is. 

He sighs miserably, pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket. He sees that it's 12:50, so he's been sitting here for almost two hours. He scoffs quietly at himself, shaking his head in disbelief. How many people had passed this alleyway and seen him sitting here? Maybe they thought he was homeless so they decided to leave him alone. He rolls his eyes, unlocking his phone.

As soon as he does, he sees Emmett's contact shining up at him. He bites his lip, considering. He thinks back, remembering his fight with Michael. Even though he's mad that Michael is asking Avery to take the word of a stranger, what if Sam is right? What if Emmett it dangerous. He shakes his head, no. Emmett can't be, can he? Either way, he wants to know for himself. He won't let anyone telling him who he should and shouldn't hang out with.

Before he can change his mind, he taps the small phone icon at the top of the screen. He lifts the phone to his ear, leaning his head against the wall.

"Hey," Emmett greets him in a casually content tone, and Avery automatically smiles.

"Hi," Avery says back, and he's very aware of how tired his voice sounds.

There's a pause, and then Emmett asks, "Are you alright?"

Avery blinks back more tears that threaten to spill over, and he finally just shuts his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He doesn't know exactly why he called or what he wants to say. Although hearing Emmett's voice is already bringing his mood up, there's a part of his brain that is repeating Michael's words over and over again. And, then there's his own observations about Emmett. He has seen a distant, calculating look in Emmett's eye more than once. And, sometimes the things he says reminds him of Dan. Dan wasn't a bad guy, obviously. But he had a lot of secrets. Does Emmett have the same secrets? Do those secrets make him dangerous? 

Avery opens his eyes, then nods once to himself, making a decision, "Are you busy right now?"

"Not at all. Why?" Emmett responds with evident curiosity at Avery's odd tone of voice.

With the phone still pressed to his ear, Avery slowly stands up, feeling weak and tired, but also determined to do what he wants to do, "There's something I want to show you." 

Michael leans against the bathroom wall with his phone in front of him, staring at the screen intently. For twenty minutes, he's been going back and forth in his head. Wanting to call Avery, wanting to go after Avery, wanting to call Sam, not wanting to call Sam. Although it's been a few hours, he knows that Avery is still going to be mad. He's still going to have so many questions, and he's not going to want to listen to Michael about Emmett until those questions are answered. Michael's still not ready to answer those questions. He doesn't know how to. How can he explain why he trusts Sam so much without unraveling a whole story that Avery has no clue about? Michael has been keeping Sam a secret for so long he doesn't know where to begin. 

"Shit," he whispers to himself, closing his eyes and hitting his head against the wall. It hurts, but he hardly cares right now.

He looks back down at his phone, and Sam's name stares back at him. He glares at it, wishing this could somehow all be simple. He grumbles to himself, then presses the call button and bitterly holds the phone against his ear. 

After a few rings, Michael is surprised to hear Sam's voicemail message. Michael groans in annoyance, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hey," Michael says awkwardly after the beep, "So, Avery's not listening to me. I... I need to know more about this. I need to see you. Please meet me. I know you're... doing whatever, but I need to talk. Please," he mumbles the last part, then quickly pulls the phone away and hangs up.

He stuffs his phone in his pocket, covering his face with his hands. He mumbles incoherently for a few seconds, then lets his arms drop. He pushes off of the wall and heads out of the bathroom, trying to keep his thoughts at bay for the time being. He'll know what he wants to know soon enough.

  
  
  


 


	4. Secrets

“You have to tell me more,” Michael says, his eyes fixated intently on Sam as they move down the sidewalk. 

It didn’t take long for Sam to listen to his voicemail, and as soon as he had seen that Michael called him, he headed back over to the familiar shop. Although this is a subject that Sam desperately wants to avoid with Michael, he could never turn down a chance to talk to him. Even if meeting his eyes now, knowing that he has to be careful with what he says, fills his body with fear. 

As soon as Sam came back to the shop, Michael took his break and they headed out into the wintry air. Avery doesn’t want to listen to the little Michael has to say about Emmett, so he has to know whatever Sam can tell him. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” Sam responds, carefully taking in each part of Michael’s expression. 

Michael huffs, tired of vague answers, “How do you know him?” He asks, raising his eyebrows in determination, “How do you know he’s dangerous?” 

Sam tears his eyes away, dropping his gaze to the floor. He nervously brushes his fingers through his hair, trying to find the right words to appease Michael without giving any direct answers. 

“We’re from the same place,” Sam finally manages, meeting Michael’s awaiting gaze. 

Michael scoffs, glaring harshly at Sam, “That’s all you’re gonna give me?” 

Now, in reaction to Michael’s coldness, anger bubbles over in Sam, “Oh, now you want to talk?” 

Michael splutters, “This has nothing to do with you and me, alright?” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Sam snaps, reaching his arm out to stop Michael’s movement on the sidewalk. He answers Michael’s shock with a glare, “We’re only here because you’re worried about Avery. If I had to guess, Avery’s the reason you haven’t been speaking to me for months!” 

A furious blush coats Michael’s cheeks, and he turns his face away from Sam. He glances around the rest of the street, trying to see if anyone is listening to their angry exchange. Some people glance in their direction, but everyone walks ahead at the usual fast city pace. In the back of his mind, Michael waits for the anxiety to rise in his chest, but is surprised to only feel guilt that always comes with seeing Sam now. 

“Sam,” Michael starts quietly, raising his eyes to meet Sam’s again, “he’s my best friend. I’m… I’m looking out for him,” he finishes vaguely, not wanting to go into detail about Dan, and Avery’s pain.

Sam stares into Michael’s eyes, and instead of calming down, the honesty in Michael’s expression only pisses him off further. It confirms what Sam already knew; Michael is only here for Avery. He drops the hand that’s still clutching Michael’s arm, folding his arms across his fine, “Yeah, okay,” he mutters. 

Michael scoffs, turning away from Sam in anger. He never wanted to face this horrible coldness that Sam and him now share, and now that he has, he wants to get as far away from it as possible, “You know what? If you don’t give a damn, then I’ll deal with this on my own. Thanks for the heads up, but you can go home now,” he spits, taking a step away from Sam. 

“Oh, screw you ‘I don’t give a damn’!” Sam shouts, causing Michael to spin around on his heel, “I have always cared about you. The reason I’m doing this is because I care about you. I know Avery’s a huge part of your life, I’m not an idiot. I want him to be safe too, believe it or not. But, I can’t keep doing this! I can’t keep seeing you when it’s never going to be about us. I thought you gave a damn about me, but clearly I was wrong. I’m gonna help you with this, but after that… I don’t know, Michael.” 

Michael exhales in a rush, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He shakes his head back and forth, trying to find the right words to make everything better. All he wanted was for Sam to think that he didn’t care about him so they could never see each other again. As much as it hurts Michael, it would be better if Sam weren’t in his life. Better for Avery; better for Sam. But, hearing those words coming from Sam’s mouth has wounded him further then letting him go in the first place. 

Unexpectedly and without his permission, Michael’s hands reach up and gently rest on the sides of Sam’s face. Sam blinks in confusion, unable to look away from Michael’s suddenly tortured expression.

“Of course I care about you,” Michael whispers, afraid his voice would shake if he said it louder, “That’s the problem.” 

Sam’s heart begins to hammer in his chest as he searches Michael’s face, then he shakes his head, “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

Michael sighs, dropping his hands and turning his gaze away from Sam. He scans the street, seeing that now people seem much more interested in their conversation. He feels a prick of nervousness, and he quickly reaches out to grab Sam’s wrist. Without looking back, he drags Sam behind him toward an empty alley on the other side of the street. When they get there, he drops Sam’s arm and stares, unfocused, into the darkness. Decisions run through his head, one after the other. Now, he’s already ruined his facade. He can’t go back to ignoring Sam; pretending he doesn’t care. That their relationship meant nothing to him. He can’t run away anymore. He has to be honest with him. He has to tell Sam everything.

As Michael turns back around to look at Sam, his mouth is dry. He sees the patient expression on Sam’s face, and his heart picks up pace. Not out of fear of anxiety, out of something else totally involuntary. A mix of hope and adoration, and a little bit of giddiness. This is the face of the Sam he knew. The Sam that he talked to everyday for months. Looking at this face, this person, Michael knows he’s safe. He almost entirely forgets why he was hiding from this person. Almost.

“Sam,” Michael starts, his eyes on the floor as he searches for the right way to explain, “Avery’s brother, the guy that raised Avery and me, just died recently. Actually, it happened the night we… That’s why I left that night,” he lifts his gaze, gaging Sam’s reaction. 

Sam’s mouth opens, and his eyebrows furrow. His chest tightens with shame as he realizes Michael wouldn’t know that he was already aware of this. He turns his eyes to the ground, “Michael, I’m so sorry.” 

Michael squeezes his eyes shut, not letting those words sink in. He doesn’t want to feel the pain he’s worked so hard to keep away from him, so he continues speaking, “Every minute, I’m worried that Avery is going to break. He’s dealing with so much. I have to be there for him, through all of it! I can’t leave him now. I don’t… I don’t have room for anything else,” Michael’s heart squeezes as he says these words aloud. He has to blink repeatedly to keep tears from forming in his eyes, “We lost our only family.” 

Michael takes a shaky breath, unable to hold back the single tear that falls from his eye. He clears his throat, unable to meet Sam’s eyes as he starts again, “I shouldn’t have even… gotten involved with you in the first place. Even before Dan died, we had so many problems. It’s too much,” his voice is barely a whisper as he finishes. 

It takes a long time for Sam to respond, and Michael eventually has to look up to see his expression. He expects to find hurt or anger on Sam’s face again, but instead his expression is still calm. The way his eyes are scanning Michael’s face, it looks like he’s trying to make a very hard decision.

“Michael,” Sam finally speaks, being careful with his words, “I understand all of that. I get that you want to be there for Avery. Of course you do. But…” he hesitates, taking a step closer to Michael, “You can’t push yourself to the side like this. You have to take care of yourself, too.” 

As he talks, Sam continues to take small steps forward. Michael’s face turns pink at the proximity, and he steps backward. A small gasps leaves his lips as he hits the wall behind him, and Sam takes another step forward. He’s only inches away now, and Michael can feel the warmth coming off of him, exactly how he remembered it did. A part of him wants to grab Sam’s shirt and pull him closer, but the other side of his head is blaring like an alarm. He’s not supposed to be allowing this anymore. 

Sam’s voice breaks through Michael’s thoughts, his eyes locking with Michael’s with an unbreakable force, “Let yourself have the things you want. You can’t keep making yourself miserable.”

Watching Michael’s expression the entire time, Sam gently places his hands on Michael’s hips. Their shoes are touching, and Sam’s sweatshirt is brushing against Michael’s. When Michael doesn’t pull away, Sam slowly moves his hands upwards, holding onto his sides. Michael’s eyes flutter shut without his permission at the contact, and all he can think about is Sam’s hands, and how he suddenly desperately wants them on his skin. No, not suddenly. It’s something he’s wanted for a very long time. He just hasn’t let himself think about it. Now that Sam is this close, the desire rips apart his entire self control. He reaches up, gripping the neck line of Sam’s sweater and pulling him closer. Their foreheads are touching now, and their bodies are pressed together. Sam tightens his hold on Michael’s sides. He feels Michael’s breath against his face, and his heart beats irregularly in his chest. Sam closes his eyes, letting his nose touch Michael’s. There mouths are so close to each other, but he doesn’t kiss him; not yet. He lets his lips trail down towards Michael’s jaw, gently brushing against the skin. Michael’s breathing picks up, and he tilts his head to the side involuntarily. Sam continues moving downwards, onto Michael’s neck. He brushes his nose against the soft skin, the places his lips against the same spot.

As soon as he does, heat suddenly fills Michael’s body, and the softest of moans slips past his lips. His mind completely clouds over with pleasure as Sam continues kissing his neck. All of his worries drift away as Sam’s lips move across his skin. His hands trail downward until they reach the edge of Sam’s shirt, and he wastes no time slipping them under the fabric. He explores Sam’s skin, and he shivers at the mix of sensations. 

Sam sighs against Michael’s neck when he feels Michael’s hands, and he can’t help the smile that spreads against his face. He leans up, again pressing his forehead against Michael’s. They stand there, tangled up in each other, breathing each other in. Michael’s lips ghost against Sam’s, and he wants to press them together so badly it hurts. But, he hesitates. Although he can’t quite remember why, a part of him tells him he shouldn’t be doing this. His eyes blink open, and his thoughts slowly return to him. His eyes widen, and a wild gasp leaves his lips. He drops his hands to his sides, then quickly brings them up to push Sam away. Although he did it as gently as he could, Sam staggers back in shock. He blinks, confused, at the expression on Michael’s face. 

_ Avery. Emmett. I was here for a reason! _ Michael thinks to himself, shaking his head back and forth in shame. 

“I-“ he stammers, stumbling a few steps away from Sam, “I have to go. I have to- I have to find Avery. I… I’m sorry, Sam,” Michael whispers, turning away.

Sam watches him walk away, too bewildered and hurt to go after him. Every step that Michael takes feels like a knife to his chest, but he keeps walking. He knows that if he turns back now, he’ll forget everything that matters all over again. 

* * *

 

The only thing that Emmett knows is that he's no longer walking on a little trail leading to a bird watching location, according to the map he stuck in his back pocket. Avery had said that there would be a bit of hiking, but he didn't realize how deep in the forest they were actually going. As he walks, or tramples, through the brush, his eyes are trained on the back of Avery's head. He squints his eyes, trying to figure out if Avery knows where he's going without actually asking.

On the bus ride here, which was longer than Emmett had expected, Avery had hardly said anything. Which, for Avery, Emmett is quickly learning that silence can't be good. When they did speak, Avery was quiet and seemed lost in thought. Whenever Emmett wasn't looking at him, Avery would glance in his direction. Emmett pretended not to notice the million questions seeming to race across Avery's mind when he did this. It was definitely weird, and it made Emmett very nervous. Just yesterday, he and Avery had been on perfectly good terms. Did Sam say something to him? If so, what? Sam wanted to keep Avery, and especially Michael, out of this. So, what could he possibly say to Avery? And with whatever had been said or done, why did this lead to a hike through the woods? What was Avery going to show him? 

As those thoughts dance around Emmett's brain again and again, Avery's mind is elsewhere. He keeps bouncing back and forth between two concepts, both of them making him feel slightly nauseous. The first one; he's bringing Emmett to this specific place for a multitude of reasons. This place is quiet and hidden from everyone else, so they can talk about whatever they want. It's a place they draws out secrets and captures them. The only ones listening in are the leaves on the tall trees. Another reason is that this is Avery's favorite place in the world, and he wants Emmett to see it. As little as he knows about Emmett, there's something between them. Something that makes Avery want to share everything about his entire life. Really, he wants this little spark of distrust to disappear, because it's ridiculous. But, what if it isn't? Which brings the last reason, Avery knows this place like the back of his hand. No one else knows this trails except him, because it's not actually a trail. Not one on any map, anyway. No one else could get to this place, therefore no one else could get out of it. Not without Avery's help. Avery's going to be asking Emmett questions that Emmett might not want him to ask, and if he does turn out to be dangerous, it won't be hard to get away from him. 

The thought makes Avery's stomach turns, and he has to press his hand against a tree to steady himself. He ceases his movement, breathing deeply. He hears the sound of Emmett's breathing behind him as well, coming out in hard puffs. Avery turns, raising his eyebrows at him. 

Seeing that Avery has stopped, Emmett leans his back against a tree, brushing his fingers through his damp hair. Although it's a chilly day, the hike has made moisture form on his forehead and the back of his neck. He turns to Avery, seeing the slightly amused expression on his lips. 

"Where are we going?" Emmett asks not for the first time today. Although he wants to be annoyed at Avery's expression, it's very hard to have negative feelings toward Avery at all.

"We're almost there," Avery shrugs vaguely, and he turns his head towards a patch of sunlight coming down in the direction they're heading, way too far to be good news for Emmett. 

"Are you gonna kill me in the middle of the woods?" Emmett ponders, trying to lighten the serious mood that Avery has had all day, "Cause I gotta say, I really did not see that coming." 

To Emmett's delight, Avery laughs, "Yes, this is where I bury all my victims." 

They start walking again, and Emmett moves to walk beside Avery instead of behind him, "Well, if you're gonna bury me, I should at least get to change into something nicer. Don't dead people get to where nice clothes?" 

"You're ridiculous," Avery rolls his eyes, grinning. 

Emmett chuckles, his eyes finding the sunlight streaming down again, "Seriously, where are we going?" 

Avery turns toward him, scanning his expression. Although he's making jokes, he seems hesitant, like part of him wants to turn around and not find out where Avery's taking him at all. 

"You don't like not knowing things, do you?" Avery asks.

Emmett sighs, meeting his gaze, "Not particularly." 

"Well, you'll find out soon enough. I promise I'm not going to kill you," Avery says, bumping his shoulder with Emmett's. 

Emmett shakes his head in amusement, looking forward instead of being distracted by Avery's face. He doesn't want to embarrass himself further by tripping on something.

As the small conversation fades back into silence, Avery gets wrapped back into his concerns. This time, instead of his thoughts about Emmett, he's focused on the second discouragement. This place, though it means so much to him, doesn't just belong to Avery. It belongs to Dan.

Dan was the one who originally found this place. He was the one who showed Avery. Avery has not once come to this place by himself, because he never thought he would come here without Dan. This was their escape. This is the place where they could say anything to each other, and they wouldn't matter the next day. The words could be forgotten, but they would never be lost. Whenever they came back to this place, the breeze that floated over them would remind them. Hopes and dreams were shared here, random thoughts and ideas were practically written in the grass. 

So, yes, Avery wants to bring Emmett here, but he has no clue what will happen afterwards. Part of him feels like the whole world will collapse in anger as soon as they step into the sunlight together. As soon as Emmett sees the things that only Dan and Avery have seen. Of course, that won't actually happen. But, what will? Never mind the world, what if the hill is too much for Avery? What if he completely breaks down in front of Emmett? What if he gets lost in his head like he keeps doing? What if he can't escape this time? What if he gets stuck forever? 

It's too late to go back now. Just as Avery is reaching the conclusion that this is too soon and he shouldn't be here, they're stepping into the clearing. 

As soon as Emmett breaks through the trees and steps onto the hill side, he gasps. His heart stutters as he takes in the view, and he walks forward without even realizing it. He no longer feels his weariness as he scans the whole scene. The familiar scene. It's like he stepped through a portal to Hiraeth without even knowing. 

It's the colors; the brightness of the city that shines far away from them. From this point, the sun glints off of every building, tower, making it sparkle. Closer to them, below their feet, the forest gleams with life. The trees shift in the wind, making the view look like a sea of bright green. He can hear the sounds of birds singing, animals scurrying. He can perfectly picture the creatures of Hiraeth enjoying these woods as much as their own. 

Avery sees the astonishment on Emmett's face. He sees the questions in his eyes, the wonder in the set of his lips. He knows this expression. He's seen it, more subtly, written on Dan's features every time they came here. This is something else he hadn't let himself consider before, because he didn't want it to be true. The way Emmett talks about certain things, it reminds him of Dan. Not in a similar personality kind of way, because they don't have that at all. It seems like they have a kind of connection that Avery can't even begin to understand. The look on Emmett's face makes this more believable. It also brings another twist to Avery's stomach. 

He clears his throat, hiding the uneasiness in his voice, "Do you like it?" 

Emmett turns toward him with a dazzling smile that takes Avery off guard. He blinks, confused by the sudden, child-like vulnerability in Emmett's eyes. 

"Yeah," Emmett responds through a chuckle, "How did you find this place?" 

Avery, still standing by the edge of the trees, steps forward to stand beside Emmett, "I didn't. My brother did," he watches carefully as Emmett's expression changes.

This was a test, Emmett quickly realizes as Avery says these words. Of course; Avery couldn't have found this place. Only someone who had lived in Hiraeth, who could remember it, could find this place. If Emmett is right, and Avery is testing to see if he would have the same reaction to this place as Dan, Emmett has failed. Anyone from Hiraeth would react the same way. But, how could Avery know that? How does Avery know anything about this? 

Emmett smile slowly falls off of his face, and he has to turn away from Avery to hide his anger. This has to be Sam's doing. He takes a deep breath, carefully changing his features before turning back to Avery, "Why did you take me here?" 

Avery bites his lip, turning his face away. He takes a few more steps forward before sinking down to the grass. He keeps his eyes on the far away city as he answers, "Michael says you're dangerous," he says bluntly, not having any other way to begin.

Emmett keeps his eyes on Avery, his jaw tightening. He doesn't know why, but behind his anger there's a certain amount of nervousness. That doesn't make sense, because he has no reason to feel nervous, right? Even if Avery decides he  _ is _ dangerous, he can just disappear to Hiraeth and never see him again. 

_ Oh, _ he thinks to himself.  _ That's what it is.  _ The thought that this could go so terribly wrong that he would have to leave Avery forever. But, why does this matter? 

Instead of diving deeper into his thoughts, he takes a seat beside Avery, looking over at him with a wistful sort of smile.

"So," he whispers into the silence, "you  _ are _ going to bury me in the woods." 

Avery looks over at him, and there is no humor in his expression. There's a fearful intensity in his eyes that makes Emmett's mouth go dry.

"Okay," Emmett starts again, serious this time, "Michael says I'm dangerous. What do  _ you _ think?" 

Avery watches Emmett's eyes carefully, looking for anything that says he should be running away. When he finds nothing he decides to speak. 

"I think I don't know you. I think..." he trails off, looking down at his hands as he thinks through his answer. Emmett waits, trying to hide the growing fear that's rising through his body. Avery continues, "I think I've been so relieved that I'm starting to feel better that I forgot to worry," he picks at the grass as he speaks, unable to look over at Emmett's face again. 

Emmett waits for more, and when none comes he whispers, "What are you worried about?"

Avery considers this question. What exactly is he worried about? His own safety? No, if he didn't feel safe with Emmett, he wouldn't have brought him to this place. It's more that he'll have to stay away from Emmett. Because if he is dangerous, even if Avery feels perfectly safe, he  _ will  _ stay away. And then a completely different thought enters his brain. If Emmett isn't dangerous, Sam is a liar. A liar that Michael trusts for some reason that Michael won't open up about. 

"The unknown," Avery replies, and it's so quiet that Emmett has to guess if he heard him right.

"So ask. Anything you want to know," Emmett says genuinely, but then he bites his tongue. He hasn't even decided what he wants to tell Avery, and now he's basically just promised to tell him whatever he wants. 

Avery looks up at him, surprised by Emmett's response. Anything? Really? What exactly does he want to ask? As he stares at Emmett's face, all his questions seem to disappear, leaving only one. One question that blares through his mind like an alarm. 

He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment and tilting his face towards the sun. He focuses on what he wants to say for a moment, then he opens his eyes and trains them on the city in front of him, "Y'know, my brother, the one who showed me this place," he swallows gathering the strength to say the next words, "he- he died recently. I like being with you because you didn't know about it. I didn't have to be so careful about the things I say or do. You didn't have a part in any of my sadness." 

He locks eyes with Emmett now, the intensity back, "Sometimes, though, you say something... that he would say. And- and I don't understand it and Dan would never explain any of it. And you have the same look in your eye when you talk about certain things. Like... the brighter place. That's something Dan would talk about." 

Emmett carefully listens, forcing himself to not look away from Avery's face. He knows a question is coming, and he has no idea what it's going to be. If it's about Hiraeth, what can he do except be honest? Isn't that what he wants to do anyway; tell Avery about Hiraeth? Sam's words enter his head.  _ Nobody belongs there. _ Why would he say that? What does he know that Emmett doesn't? 

"Honestly," Avery continues, his voice almost a whisper, "I couldn't tell you who my brother was. I don't know where he was from. I don't know how he ended up with me and Michael. I thought I knew him better then anyone, but I don't think that's true anymore," he trails off, searching Emmett's face intently. Emmett raises his eyebrows, preparing himself for the question. Avery breathes, then asks, "Who are  _ you, _ Emmett?" 

This isn't the question he had been expecting. He blinks, opening his mouth and then closing it again. His heart begins to race in his chest. He doesn't know how to respond to this. What answer is Avery looking for? There's so much about himself that he doesn't want Avery to see. His past is messy, and his time in Hiraeth is so hard to explain. All of this is too hard to explain. There is no easy answer here.

"Avery," Emmett shakes his head, trying to focus on a clear thought. His voice sounds too nervous, "There are things that your brother didn't tell you. Things that... you might not be able to handle." 

It's a bad start. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back. The effect on Avery is immediate. He blinks rapidly, his mouth twisting in an odd way as he asks, "You knew my brother?" 

"No! I- I didn't," Emmett has to look away. Not because he's lying; he's not. He didn't know Dan, but he knew of him. Avery is probably right about other people knowing his brother better than he had, "I want to tell you everything. I want you to understand. But I... I can't tell you what you want to know. I can't tell you who your brother was, and I can't tell you exactly who I am," he hesitantly meets Avery's eyes again, "Hell, I don't even know the answer to that. But, something that I am begging you to understand is that I am not dangerous to you," the words come out desperate, and he can no longer hide the fear from his face, "Please know that, Avery." 

Avery huffs, wanting more than that. But, the look on Emmett's face is so different than what he's used to. Right now, he's not looking at an awkward guy that has a bit of a snarky attitude, he's looking at someone who is genuinely scared. Scared of what Avery will think of him. 

He turns away with a sigh, letting the moment turn into silence. None of his questions were answered, but there's something about the words that Emmett had said that makes him feel better. And, although he doesn't have any proof, and maybe he's being a little naive, but he believes that Emmett isn't dangerous. Not to him, anyway. He also believes that Emmett wants to answer his questions, there's just something stopping him. Something that has to do with Dan, and himself, and possibly Michael. Sam is somewhere in the mix too; he might even be the something. But, for right now, he lets go of his questions. He lets himself sit in silence on a perfect hill with someone he trusts, just like he used to. 

It's not until the sun begins to set that Emmett and Avery decide they should start heading back. It's a relatively quiet walk down the hillside, both of them lost in their own troubling thoughts. When they take the bus ride back to the city, instead of sitting in silence like they had before, they listen to music on Avery's phone. Although there are still a lot of things up in the air between them, it's surprisingly nice to just sit back and relax together. Avery eventually gets tired, like he usually does when he takes the bus, and he closes his eyes, laying his head down on Emmett's shoulder. Emmett looks down at him curiously as he does this, and he's suddenly very aware of his heart beating loudly and too fast in his chest. He hopes Avery can't hear that from his position. For the last 15 minute bus ride, Emmett looks out the window and tries to feel relaxed again. 

When they get off, they walk in a sort of haze down the sidewalk towards Emmett's apartment. The sky has turned a brilliant purple, and Avery can't help but stare up at it with a fond smile. As they walk, their shoulders brush together, and after their time on the hill, Emmett is very aware of this. He hopes that the darkened atmosphere conceals the blush on his face. Soon enough, they’re stopping in front of the front door of Emmett’s apartment building. 

Avery’s feet shuffle awkwardly, his eyes flitting around the dark sky. For some reason, he’s having trouble looking at Emmett, even though he has been all day. Emmett watches him carefully, leaning against one of the supports of the building. 

“So,” Emmett starts, and their eyes finally meet, “I guess this is it?”

Avery nods slowly, but his mind can’t help but disagree. The whole point of their outing today was for Avery to get some more answers, and he didn’t. He barely got anything. Just one little promise. How does Avery know if that promise is even real? Every bone in his body is telling him that it is, that he can trust Emmett, but there’s a tiny flicker of doubt in the back of his head. The part that’s always been so good at asking; what if? 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Emmett asks, breaking Avery’s concentration. 

The more silent Avery is, the more Emmett starts to worry. He already knows he’s said too much on the hill, and there’s no way to take it back. There’s nothing else he can say to make Avery feel better, not after Sam opened his mouth. Of course, Avery hadn’t mentioned Sam, but why else would Michael say that Emmett is dangerous? Why would he think that if Sam didn’t say something first? 

Avery smiles timidly, his eyes on the ground, “No, that’s okay. I can find my way home, and there’s still a little light left. I’ll be fine.” 

Emmett feels a rush of disappointment, but he ignores it. He mimics Avery’s smile, but it doesn’t touch his eyes, “Okay, well. Goodnight. I’ll see you later,” he says. He phrases the last part like a statement, but he can see that Avery hears the question behind his words. 

Avery looks up at him, the smile on his face seeming to become more genuine, “Yeah, I’ll see you later. Goodnight,”

Emmett grins as Avery turns and starts walking down the street. Ignoring the idea of comfort that would come from being in his apartment, he stays leaning against the pole. He watches Avery walk, this time with a real smile playing at his lips. Instead of worrying about everything else, he focuses on those words.  _ I’ll see you later.  _ So, they will see each other again. Although Avery made no indication on the contrary throughout the day, Emmett couldn’t help but fear the worst. But, those four words seem to make those insecurities drift away.

He finally tears his eyes away from Avery’s retreating form, looking up at the sky. Avery had been doing it all night, so thinks he might as well try it. It’s nothing like the night sky he’s used to, but there’s something so peaceful about it that it makes his smile widen. 

Just as Emmett is making the decision to finally go inside, the sound of footsteps alerts him. They sound close, and the fact that he missed them approaching because of his own distractions bothers him. He’s usually more focused. He turns to the noise, and his mouth opens in surprise. Then, his face turns into a furious scowl. Sam. 

He stops a few feet away, his hands in his pockets. He has a look on his face that’s a mix between frustration and anxiety. Suddenly, Emmett is so mad that his brain takes over. Everything that Sam has said to him repeats like an annoying record in his head. Then, the look on Avery’s face today, like he was scared Emmett might hurt him. All because of Sam.

“How the hell do you know where I live?” Emmett asks, his words practically glowing with the heat of his resentment, “You stalking me now? Making sure I don’t force any innocents through a portal to Hiraeth?” 

His words come out fast and loud, and his feet move forward toward Sam without his permission. Without another thought, he balls his right hand into a fist, bringing it up and snapping it forward. It connects with Sam’s nose. The sound of his blood pumping takes over his own awareness, so he doesn’t hear the crack, nor Sam’s feet against the pavement as he staggers backwards. He feels the pain in his hand, but he hardly cares. 

Sam puts a hand to his nose, feeling the blood. He blinks down at the red in his hand in confusion, his mind not connecting the dots that Emmett just hurt him. Then, it clicks, and it’s his turn to be mad. He icily glares forward, breathing heavily before lurching forward, fisting his hands into Emmett’s jacket and slamming him against the wall of the apartment building. Emmett’s head smacks against the bricks, but Sam doesn’t wait to hear his response to this. 

“You’re not that hard to track. I have a few Hiraeth tools of my own,” Sam hisses bitterly, subtly referencing their spat in the park.

“Get the hell off of me!” Emmett shouts, shoving Sam with all of his strength. Sam stumbles backwards, but he stays upright. 

“Where did you take Avery today?” Sam asks, his hands still balled into fists. 

“Nowhere,” Emmett spits, his breathing still heavy from adrenaline. 

Sam scoffs, “You told him, didn’t you? About everything?” 

Emmett’s hands start shaking with anger, and he takes a step closer to Sam, “No, I didn’t. But he certainly asked what was up because you had to open your damn mouth!” his voice gets louder as he talks, and he takes another step forward, seething, “I wasn’t going to say anything anytime soon, but now he knows something is going on with me, his brother, and probably you! Good job, Sam. You really fixed this situation. Bravo!” his furious words drip with sarcasm. 

Sam takes a step back, flinching at Emmett’s accusation. He keeps his glare locked with Emmett’s, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking concerned. In his head, though, he’s screaming at himself. Emmett is right. 

As Emmett’s anger slowly dies down, other thoughts rise to the surface. He’s suddenly unsure if he should be mad at Sam at all. Isn’t Emmett supposed to want Avery to know about Hiraeth? Yes, originally. But, Sam had to go and make him question that decision. This whole ordeal became much more difficult. He wanted to have time to decipher why Dan didn’t take them to Hiraeth in the first place, and now that time has been taken away from him. If Emmett keeps his mouth shut, Avery’s curiosity is going to lead him there anyway. Emmett is out of options, that’s why he’s so mad. 

Of course, he doesn’t want Sam to see the indecision. It would make him look weak, like he cares about the situation. For some reason, if he shows how much he cares, it feels like Sam wins. So, he folds his arms across his chest, keeping his features carefully composed. He raises an eyebrow at Sam, like he has nothing else to say. 

“So, what now?” Sam asks harshly, disturbing the silence. 

Emmett shrugs, “Well, I guess that’s up to me. Since, you have no more moves. Unless of course, you want to run to Michael and tell him how I want to steal him and his best friend away to the magical world that they were born in,” Emmett ends with a smirk, although that specific idea makes him angrier than ever.

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but he falters. His mix of emotions are clear on his face, and the look of frustration that settles there proves Emmett right. This is Sam’s only option, and both of them know he won’t do it. 

“Checkmate,” Emmett says briskly. 

He doesn’t give Sam a chance to respond. He spins on his heel, heading straight for the doors of the building. He throws them open angrily, not bothering to look at Sam’s expression as the glass doors clang shut behind him. 

Emmett flies through the lobby in a daze of vexation, slamming the elevator button with his fist. He continues jamming it with his finger when the elevator doesn’t appear in less than 5 seconds. 

In reality it only takes him about 5 minutes to get to his apartment, but in Emmett’s state it feels like an eternity. He slams the door shut behind him, and immediately leans against it, pressing his hands against his face and curses loudly into them. He drops his hands after a second, pushing off of the door and moving to sit on his small, grey sofa. He can feel the tension reverberating off of him, and he tilts his neck to both sides, trying to ease some of his frustration. He leans back against the couch, letting his eyes close as uneasy thoughts race around his head. He puts his hands on the sides of his head, a headache already forming. 

Emmett is right; it’s his turn to do something about Avery and Michael. But, what? What exactly is his next move? The answer seems obvious; tell them. Stop keeping their past a secret to them. This is what he was going to do in the first place, before Sam went and got himself involved. 

Something that hadn’t occurred to Emmett suddenly does, and he scowls at himself. How did this become Emmett’s responsibility. In less than a week, he had gotten himself so wrapped up in Hiraeth matters that he forgot that he doesn’t want anything to do with this. He never wanted to find Avery and Michael; that isn’t his job. So, why  _ not  _ just disappear? Why not take himself out of this incredibly irritating equation.

_ Because of Avery,  _ his mind answers him. But, this doesn’t really answer anything. What about Avery? Why does one silly teenager seem to mean so much to him? Why does he feel like choking up with tears whenever he thinks about never seeing Avery again? Why did it make him feel so much better when Avery said they would see each other again? 

Emmett has never foolishly let himself care so much about a person after this short of time. It’s stupid and naive and will inevitably end with someone getting hurt. That’s just how life works, so why? Why did he do this to himself? 

_ No,  _ he thinks,  _ how did Avery do this to him?  _ He wants to be angry. He wants to blame Avery for this stupidity. He wants to be so angry that he just leaves without any regrets. But, he can’t. Because, he can’t even make himself angry that he feels this way at all. 

Emmett groans in frustration, pushing Avery’s face out of mind so he can focus on more important things.

So, he’s not going to run away. Apparently, he’s unable to do that without hurting himself in the process, so no. But, what else can he do? Does this mean he has to tell Avery about Hiraeth? Does he have to tell Michael too? 

He grimaces, instantly disliking the idea of having a conversation with Michael. Although they’ve never really spoken, Michael already distrusts Emmett. He believes the things that Sam said, and Emmett has a feeling that having a sit down with Michael wouldn’t help anything. 

He can tell Avery, though. Avery wants to know, even if he doesn’t know the extent of what he wants to know. Avery would listen. It should be easy, shouldn’t it? I mean, he  _ wants  _ to tell Avery. 

Again, Sam’s words echo in his head. As much as Emmett hates it, Sam knows many things about Hiraeth that he doesn’t. He had a much closer look. Much closer than anyone else. Samuel Meraz was practically the gem of Hiraeth. Before he got thrown out, that is. This of course begs the question; why? Does this have something to do with why he doesn’t want Avery and Michael stepping one foot into Hiraeth? It has to. 

Emmett has always assumed that Sam brought his fate onto himself. Surely, he’s just so upset that he got left behind, so he doesn’t want the people of Hiraeth to get anything they want. But, there’s something else that Emmett had always refused to consider until now. What if Sam found something out about Hiraeth that isn’t good? As much as he wants to say this can’t possibly be true, Emmett doesn’t know. He hates it, but there’s a lot of Hiraeth Emmett doesn’t know about. There are so many secrets that he has yet to get his hands on. What if Sam stumbles upon something that would bring harm to Avery and Michael? Is that why he doesn’t want them to go? 

Without his permission, Emmett’s thoughts fall back to Avery. Would he be in harm’s way if he went to Hiraeth? Dan didn’t bring them to Hiraeth either, so could this be true? 

_ He deserves to know,  _ he argues with himself. How can Avery go on not knowing this other side of him? This side of his brother? He can’t. He  _ has  _ to know about it. And, what if being in Hiraeth makes him happier? He has to be struggling here. He lost his brother, his only relative. What if being in Hiraeth can bring him some peace? It could give him hope. He could finally know his brother, like he believed he always did. 

_ There’s always going to be a reason not to,  _ Emmett decides. Avery has to know. Emmett has to tell him everything. Soon; before Sam decides he  _ should  _ tell Michael about it and make it that much more complicated. Emmett has to do it now. Tonight, while Avery still thinks Emmett is worth the time of day. 

Emmett pulls out his phone, and he doesn’t even notice the smile growing on his face as he types out his message. Finally, he can do what he’s wanted to do since he first saw Avery coming out of that coffee shop. 

* * *

 

Michael sits in front of the TV with his head in his hands, his foot tapping rhythmically on the floor. The volume is louder than he usually has it because he’s hoping the noise will drive the pressing concerns from his mind. So far, it hasn’t been working.

Avery’s been gone for a long time without any word. Michael wanted to give him time to cool off, but it never takes this long. For the last two hours, his hands have been itching to grab his phone and call, but he holds back. It’s possible that Avery  _ is  _ still angry with him, and Michael doesn’t want to make it worse. But, half of Michael’s brain is screaming at him that Avery is in danger. What if he’s with Emmett?

Michael scoffs at himself, feeling ashamed when he thinks back to earlier today with Sam. He wanted answers, and instead he got too caught up in his own feelings. Now, he’s left knowing nothing about how much trouble Avery could be in. 

A spasm of panic jolts Michael’s body, and his hands drop to his sides. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep a hold on himself, but it’s too hard. He doesn’t know  _ anything.  _ That thought alone brings him to his breaking point. He gives in, his scrambling toward his phone that’s resting on the coffee table. Just as he gets a good grip on it, his mind trying to work out exactly what he’ll say to Avery, he hears a noise at the front door. The sound gives him a start, and his shaking hands drop the phone as his eyes flash toward the door. 

The door opens, and Michael watches as Avery steps in the room, his mind clearly too occupied to notice Michael sitting there. Michael jumps to his feet, running up to Avery and throwing his arms around him. Avery gasps in surprise, being pulled into the present by this action. 

Avery laughs, “Jeez, Mike! You almost knocked me over,” he teases, but he hugs Michael back. 

Michael chuckles sheepishly, pulling away after a moment, “I was worried about you.”

Avery raises an eyebrow, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” 

Michael scoffs at his teasing, moving to sit back down on the couch. A tense silence falls over them, and Avery knows the question is coming before he even takes his seat next to Michael. 

“Were you with Emmett today?” Michael asks in a rush, not meeting Avery’s eyes. 

Avery hesitates, carefully watching Michael’s expression. He knows that this whole fight would’ve caused Michael a lot of anxiety and he doesn’t want to make that worse. But, Avery also doesn’t believe that Michael is right about Emmett.

“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” Avery responds, carefully avoiding Michael’s question.

“I know, Ave. But Sam said…” Michael trails off, seeing the look on Avery’s face when Michael says Sam’s name. His chest tightens, and his mouth is suddenly dry as he tries to think of something better to say. 

Avery waits, his lips pursed. He feels a twinge of irritation that echoes his anger from earlier, but he’s willing to hear Michael out now. 

Michael takes a deep breath, fully turning to Avery on the couch, “Right, okay. So, about Sam…” he starts, but again he finds words out of his reach.

“Yeah?” Avery prompts gently, seeing the torment on Michael’s face. 

Michael swallows, then begins with his eyes trained on a white fuzz on the couch as he begins, “I’ve known Sam for a while, actually. I knew him before… everything happened.”

Avery blinks in surprise, his eyebrows furrowing. He’s known Sam for that long and he never said anything?

“We uh…” Michael continues, clearly struggling, “I really liked him. And, he liked me too. We really hit it off, I guess,”

Avery scoffs, “And you never told me?”

“Let me finish,”

“Fine.”

Michael clears his throat, trying to keep the blush from his face as he talks about his time with Sam, “Anyway, he’d always come into the shop and talked a lot. We sort of talked about everything, and we slowly got to know each other. He became this odd constant in my life that I sort of depended on? I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,”

Despite himself, Avery can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He leans forward, slapping Michael on the arm, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Michael looks toward him with exasperation, “Because, Sam was separate from my home life. He was something that was just mine, and I wanted to keep it like that. I knew Dan would ask a million questions about him, and I knew you would react exactly like this. Seriously, stop getting excited.”

Avery tries to control his expression, “Okay, okay. So what happened?”

Michael shrugs, “Nothing, really. I mean, we just talked a lot. Nothing even happened between us,”

Avery squints at him, seeing the heat spreading all over his face. Michael’s eyes cast down to the couch, and he bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Okay, so maybe not nothing,” Michael mumbles, avoiding Avery’s scrutiny. 

“I knew it! What happened?” Avery asks, getting excited all over again.

Michael turns further away from him, “We uh… well... One night it was really late, and I let him stay after closing. He asked if I wanted to go to his apartment, so…” 

Avery gasps, his eyes widening and again his hand flies out to smack Michael’s shoulder, “What!? You and Sam had sex and you never told me about it? That’s so not fair! I tell you about everything like that!”

Michael huffs, “I know, okay? I know. But, Avery…” he trails off, his nerves bubbling over and coating his expression. 

Avery tilts his head to the side, confused at the change in Michael’s expression, “But what?”

Michael opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He has to look away, because he feels the prick of tears forming in his eyes and he doesn’t want Avery to see him like this.

Avery does see, and he puts a hand on Michael’s shoulder in concern, “Michael what happened? Did Sam do something? I don’t understand,”

“No, Sam didn’t do anything. It was me. I left him that night. I had to, I…” Michael stammers, hiding his face with his hands. 

“Why?” Avery asks, taking Michael’s hands away from his face and holding them with his own. 

“Ave,” Michael whispers, their eyes meeting, “that was the night you… you found Dan. I had to leave. I couldn’t…” he trails off, his mind somewhere off 5 months ago on that horrible night. 

Avery falls back against the couch, his heart plummeting to his feet. A wave of depression hits him like a brick, and he has to swallow a large lump in his throat before he can choke out, “Michael, I’m so sorry.”

Michael can’t help it; his emotions are so confused right now that he laughs. “Avery, this is anything but your fault. I make my own messes. But, yeah, after that, I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t be with him. You and me; we need each other too much. I don’t have room for him in my life.”

Avery stares at him sadly, feeling guilty, even though Michael says it isn’t his fault. But, Michael had this whole other life, and now he doesn’t have it. Because, as Michael says, Avery needs him too much. That’s true; Avery has always known that. Ever since Dan died, he’s needed Michael by his side for everything. He can’t even begin to apologise for that. 

“Anyway,” Michael mutters, brushing the tears off of his face sheepishly, “that’s why I trust Sam so much. He was sort of my best friend, and I know he really cares about me. At least, he did. Before it got ruined,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

Avery considers that, looking down at the couch pensively, “I get it. And, of course I trust you. Maybe Sam is telling the truth about Emmett. But,” Avery hesitates, biting his lip nervously, “As crazy as it sounds, I trust Emmett too.”

Michael makes a face, and Avery holds a hand up, stopping whatever Michael is about to say, “Look, I know how it sounds! I sound naive and stupid, but I’m not ready to give up on him! Yes, I’m perfectly aware I just met him, and maybe that’s the reason I should walk away, but… I just can’t.”

Michael searches Avery’s face, thinking about a million things he could say to object to this. But, would that really change anything? When Avery sets his mind to something, no matter how unrealistic, he doesn’t let anything get in his way of getting it done. 

Michael throws his head back, letting out a big sigh, “I guess I can’t stop you. Just…” he wants to say to stay away from Emmett, but that’s the whole issue at hand, so clearly that would be pointless, “be careful, okay? Please?”

Avery rolls his eyes, “I will. When am I not careful?”

Michael scoffs, shaking his head as the many instances enter his brain. Avery just smiles, and it’s the sort of smile that reminds Michael of when Avery was 12 years old. He’s still the same kid that runs at full speed towards the nearest adventure, not caring that he always twists his ankle whenever he runs. Michael’s heart twists, and he suddenly pulls Avery in for another hug. This isn’t a lake that has a  _ No Swimming  _ sign attached to it this time, this could be a situation where Avery actually gets hurt. What if he trusts a complete psychopath? What exactly does Sam mean when he says Emmett is dangerous?

Avery can feel the emotions coming off of Michael, and he sighs, tightly wrapping his arms around him, “I love you, Mike, but you have to stop worrying about me like I’m still a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

Michael smiles despite himself. Of course Avery knows exactly what he’s thinking, “Yeah, yeah. You’re an adult now, whatever,” he murmurs.

Avery laughs, pulling away from the hug.

“Hey,” Michael starts again, “I love you too. And, I’m sorry I never said anything about Sam. It was just… hard,” he says, struggling to find a better word.

“Don’t worry about it,” Avery sighs, turning his body to lay his head on michael’s shoulder. 

Michael relaxes, leaning against the couch and taking a deep breath. It feels like the first draw of air he’s had in a while, and he smiles a little at himself. Finally, the tension that had been surrounding Avery and him is gone, now that everything is up in the air. Obviously, there are still plenty of problems. Emmett, for one thing, is a huge question mark that Michael would rather not exist at all, but he’s decided that, for the time being, he can take a break from worrying. For now, Avery is safe. That’s all that matters.

The sound of the TV that Michael realises is still on fills the silence, and they both watch without saying anything. Neither of them know what’s happening, but whatever it is a good distraction. 

“So,” Avery speaks, and his tone is surprisingly playful tone, “How was it?”

Michael furrows his eyebrows, “How was what?”

Avery looks up at him with a grin, raising an eyebrow, “Y’know, how was  _ it?  _ With Sam?”

Michael splutters, his face going beat red, “Alright, I think it’s bedtime,” he announces loudly, abruptly standing up from the couch.

He starts walking towards his room, and Avery laughs, “Oh, come on! Spill the tea, sis!”

“Goodnight!” Michael calls, and a second later Avery hears his door shut. 

Avery shakes his head in amusement, sinking down on the couch to get comfortable in front of the TV. It’s only just now turning 9, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if he tries to go to bed. Just as he begins to actually listen to what the characters on screen are saying, though, he feels the buzz of his phone in his sweater pocket. He thinks about ignoring it for the time being, but then he sighs and pulls his phone out. When he looks at his screen, he feels a sudden rush of excitement when he sees Emmett’s name staring back at him. He quickly opens up his phone to read the multiple texts that Emmett has sent. 

 

_ 8:32pm - Hey  _

 

_ 8:33pm - So I’ve made the realization that I’m not going to be able to think straight because of how much was left unsaid today _

 

_ 8:35pm - I think we should meet. I have to explain some stuff.  _

 

_ 8:59pm - Maybe you already went to bed, but whenever you see this, we should talk _

 

Avery’s heart leaps out of his chest as he reads the messages, and he has to blink several times to make sure he’s not just delirious from the long day. Emmett wants to explain? Explain what, exactly? Although these are the answers that he was trying to get today, Avery is suddenly wary to get them. What if Emmett’s answers completely change everything? 

Avery looks at the clock on his phone, seeing that he’s been sitting here staring at these messages for 3 minutes. He bites his lip nervously as he types out a response.

 

_ 9:03pm - Hey :) No, I’m not asleep. Where do you want to meet? _

 

He waits, frozen in place with his eyes trained on the phone screen. Nerves flow through him, and the nauseous feeling from earlier returns. It’s lessened, but it’s still there. It takes 2 long minutes for Emmett to read the message, and then another one for him to type out a response.

 

_ 9:06pm - Coffee shop?  _

 

* * *

 

Avery debated whether or not to tell Michael where he was going before he left. It’s not something they usually do, but tonight, and when Emmett is involved, it seems so different. He decided not to, because they might end up having a conversation that leaves both of them angry again, and Avery didn’t want that. Not after Michael finally opened up about Sam.

Avery sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks down the familiar route. He hadn’t gone to the coffee shop today, which he completely forgot about until now. He had been so excited that he went straight to Michael’s work instead. How different things quickly turned. It feels good to be going now; like he’s checking off a box in his to do list that he usually never forgets. 

His mind drifts away from the shop, and instead he starts thinking about who he’s meeting. Currently, Avery has a lot of conflicting thoughts about Emmett that are hard to decipher. On one hand, he can’t help the sense of excitement he feels whenever Emmett is around. When they’re together, Avery forgets about his hardships. He almost feels younger, and like how he always used to feel when he was in High School. Like he could do anything. 

But, on the other hand, there’s things about Emmett that Avery might not want to know. There’s always been something slightly off, and today confirmed it hardcore. Not only that, but whatever it is, it has something to do with Dan. Something that Dan kept from Avery. If Emmett is about to reveal those secrets, would that go against what Dan wants for Avery? 

Avery shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He’s already made the decision to meet Emmett, and if he changes his mind now, he’ll end up disappointing both of them. 

His eyes search to find something to distract himself, and he spots a birds nest built into the sign of a convenient store. Although there’s not a bird to be seen, Avery can’t help but picture them. This whole situation would be a lot easier if he was a bird. Birds don’t use confusing, contradicting sentences that leave you wanting to know more. There would be no secrets, no drama. If Avery wanted something, he could just sing a short little song and get it. He wouldn’t have to wait for the answers he may or may not want. Life would be simple.

Wanting to keep himself distracted, Avery begins to compare the simplicity of real birds to cartoon birds. In real life, a bird’s life is pretty straightforward. Birth, food, leaving the nest, finding a new place to live, building a new nest, finding a mate, and the cycle continues. In a cartoon, things can sometimes get more complicated. But, that just goes back into singing a song to get whatever you want. Problems are solved in a matter of seconds, and you’d still have the benefit of flying. 

He continues this for the rest of the walk to the coffee shop, and when he gets there, he feels slightly less nervous. Not much, though.

* * *

 

Emmett sits, surrounded by the bright lights of the coffee shop, with his back pressed to a flashy, red booth. He chose this seat because he doesn’t want anyone else to hear him, but there’s only one other person sitting at the bar with headphones in, so it really doesn’t matter. Still, it’s better to be safe. He doesn’t want the wrong person to hear about Hiraeth. 

He looks down at his phone, and the time reads 9:22. He knows that that’s how long Avery  _ should  _ take to show up, but he still can’t help the feeling that he’s not going to show at all. He leans his head on the table with a sigh, trying to keep himself from being so pessimistic. 

He catches the sound of the door to the shop opening, and he whips his head up and around to see who walks through. With relief, he sees Avery peering around the shop, looking for him. He spots him quickly, considering the lack of customers, and he grins as he starts to walk over. 

As Avery takes the seat across from Emmett, and Emmett forces a smile back at him too late. Avery furrows his eyebrows, seeming to sense Emmett’s jittery mood.

“Are you alright?” he asks, leaning forward on the table to keep his voice quieter in the empty space.

Emmett nods, looking down at the table nervously, “Yeah, I’m great,” his timid voice gives him away.

“Hey,” Avery starts, his voice soft and patient, “We don’t have to do this. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Emmett looks up, and he sees the sincerity in Avery’s eyes.  There also seems to be something boiling under the surface, like he’s holding back his own nerves and curiosity.

Emmett takes a deep breath, “No, I told you earlier that I want to tell you this stuff, and there’s no reason not to do it now.”

Avery doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Emmett watches as he tries to keep his expression nonchalant. 

Then Avery nods, “Okay,” giving Emmett the introduction to start. 

And suddenly, he goes completely blank, like every word in the english language is foriegn to him. He opens his mouth, and when nothing comes out, he snaps it shut and looks down at his hands. Avery watches him, raising both of his eyebrows in question. Emmett scoffs at himself quietly, his mind yelling at him to stop being such a coward. 

“So,” he finally starts, and he has to clear his throat before he continues, “Avery, I’m not from here,” he looks up to meet Avery’s eyes.

Avery nods slowly, “So I gathered. Where are you from?”

Emmett hesitates, searching Avery’s expression. Then he takes another breath and starts again, “It’s a place called Hiraeth.”

Avery blinks, his head tilting to the side, “Hiraeth? Wait, is that a country?”

Emmett chuckles nervously, “No, it’s not a country. It’s… sort of a different universe.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Avery’s face is impossible to read.

“Excuse me?” he finally asks when Emmett says nothing else.

Emmett leans closer to him, and suddenly the words come tumbling out of him, “The brighter place, remember? That’s Hiraeth. It’s this whole other world. It has different creatures, and- and different plants, and everything is so beautiful. There’s a palace, and there’s kings and queens and-”

He continues talking, his eyes find the table again, this time so he can picture the scene he’s describing. His home; the place that he’s always loved. And, he suddenly wants to laugh in Sam’s face, because how could Hiraeth ever be a bad place when it’s so wonderful? 

What he doesn’t notice, unfortunately, is Avery slowly leaning away from him, his jaw tightening, “Emmett,” he starts, but his voice is too small.

“- and you’re brother is from here, Avery. You were born there. Michael was too, and Sam. All of you. This place is-”

“Emmett, stop!” Avery shouts, and Emmett finally locks eyes with him. 

The look on Avery’s face feels like a slap, and Emmett’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He opens his mouth again, but Avery continues.

“So, you called me here to make jokes?” Avery asks. His voice is low, but there’s an undercurrent that seems to make the room 10 degrees cooler.

“Jokes?” Emmett mumbles, too stunned to say anything else, because Avery is now on his feet.

“My brother is dead, Emmett, and you want to tell me some stupid story? What, to get a laugh from the look on my face?”

Emmett is already shaking his head, standing up as well to face Avery. His heart is racing, and he desperately wants to fix whatever the hell he had managed to break.

“I don’t know what Sam knows about you, or why he called you dangerous, but he was probably right,” Avery continues, but it seems like it’s more to himself.

“What? No, Avery, I’m trying to explain-” 

“God, I trusted a total stranger, what is wrong with me?” Avery says, and he takes a step away from Emmett.

“Avery, please, just listen to me-”

The sharp glare that Avery gives him cuts him off, leaving him completely frozen. It’s a look he never thought could be on such a friendly face, and it slashes him in half. Avery takes another step back, his eyes turning to the floor. That’s when Emmett sees the tears, and he suddenly hears his own words from Avery’s point of view. 

His mouth goes bone dry, and he can no longer look at Avery. Shame flows through him, because he feels like the awful man that Avery is describing.

Avery turns on his heel, running out of the shop with such speed, bystanders would think that Emmett was trying to hurt him. He sinks back down in the seat, his legs going numb as what just happened hits him. 

_ This is it,  _ Emmett thinks, burying his face in his hands,  _ this is how Sam wins.  _ Somehow, that’s the only thought that he can focus on, because the rest is too painful. He doesn’t want to think about how insane he sounded. He doesn’t want to think about how much bringing up Dan mixed in with all that bullshit probably hurt Avery more than anything he can do. He doesn’t want to think about how Avery will ever know the truth about Hiraeth. But mostly, he just doesn’t want to think about how Avery will never speak to him again. That thought might just shatter him. 

  
  



	5. Regarding Neverland

Avery doesn’t see the street as he runs. He doesn’t hear his feet pounding against the pavement, nor the occasional car that rushes past him. He doesn’t feel the ache in his legs and chest as he pushes himself past his limits. The screaming in his head is too loud for him to notice anything else at all. 

He had only been in the coffee shop for 20 minutes. That was it. 20 minutes, and yet now it feels like the entire world is shaking, trying to knock him to his knees. It’s all his fault. He was so intrigued by a total stranger that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. Why couldn’t he just listen to Michael and stay away from Emmett? He should’ve talked to Sam. He could’ve asked if Emmett was insane, or just a total insensitive asshole.

Dan’s face keeps pushing into the foreground of Avery’s mind, and each time he shoves it away. Why did Emmett have to say his name? Why did he have to spin him into same crazy story?

Emmett knows Dan is dead. Avery told him things about Dan that he’s never opened up about. How could Avery do that? How could he betray his brother like that? 

Avery so badly wanted Emmett to be the missing piece in his life. The person that finally made him happy again. Someone to help Avery be the person he was before Dan died. But, turns out he’s just someone who roots down into Avery’s life and toys with him until he’s finished. Why else would he make up a bunch of crap about Avery’s brother, the one person that Avery needed more than anyone else in the world? 

Avery crashes into the apartment, stumbling over his own feet and falling to the ground. The whole room is blurry because of tears that refuse to stop rolling down his face, and he flinches hard when the door slams shut behind him. His heart is beating painfully hard, and he wraps his legs around himself. Choked sobs are leaving his throat, and suddenly his mind is racing so fast that he can barely tell what he’s thinking about.

He feels hands on him, and his head shoots up to see Michael staring down at him with panic all over his expression. Avery has to really focus to hear what he’s saying, and even then he barely understands the words. 

“Avery, what’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me, please!” Michael says in a rush, sitting on his knees in front of Avery, his hands grasping Avery’s shoulders.

“I- I-” Avery chokes out, shaking his head.

Avery realises he’s breathing too hard and quick, and he rests one of hands on his throat in bewilderment. It’s almost like he’s separated from his body, and he’s watching himself have a complete meltdown, but he’s mind is too muddled to do anything about it. 

“Avery, deep breaths!” Michael commands, but Avery just buries his face in his knees, not wanting to listen to anything. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he notices when Michael stands, sprinting back to his room in a blur. He’s back almost instantly, falling into a sitting position in front of Avery. 

“Okay, Ave, I need you to swallow this. You’re gonna feel a lot better, okay?” he says, and it can barely be heard over the sobs coming from Avery’s throat. 

Michael lifts Avery’s face, locking eyes with him meaningfully. Avery slowly understands, and he opens his mouth, tasting the salt of his tears as they continue to fall. Michael places something small and ovular on Avery’s tongue, and he swallows bewilderedly, his mind weakly trying to find the reason why.

Avery, still gasping for air because of his crying, focuses on Michael, trying to keep his mind steady. His head fights back, millions of thoughts yelling so loudly that Avery has to put his hands on the sides of his face.

Michael pulls Avery into his arms, counting in his head. Usually, when he takes his medication, it takes about 20 minutes for it to start kicking in. It’s a risk in itself giving Avery something prescribed for himself, so he has no idea if it will help. He strokes Avery’s back, feeling his heartbeat fluttering wildly. He feels a tear forming in his own eye as Avery’s sobs echo through the whole apartment, and he hold him tighter. 

It feels like an eternity passes before Avery’s heart finally starts to slow, and the tears stop falling onto Michael’s shirt. The choking sounds continue, but they too begin to slow. Avery’s grip drops from the sides of his head, and his hands drop to the ground. He mumbles something into Michael’s hair, and Michael pulls away to look at his face.

Avery’s eyelids are drooping, and he’s fighting to keep his eyes on Michael, but he manages. 

“What?” Michael whispers, brushing Avery’s hair away from his eyes.

“Emmett,” Avery murmurs, and that’s all he gets out before his eyes close completely.

Michael blinks, letting a second of silence pass before he reacts. Anger rips through him, and his hands are beginning to shake. Usually, this would mean he has to take one of his pills, but this time it’s different.

He breathes deeply, focusing on Avery instead of Emmett. He’s passed out against Michael’s shoulder, and some of Michael’s anger drains. Fear courses through him, and he wraps an arm behind Avery’s knees and shoulders and stands with him in his arms. With effort, he walks Avery over to the couch and gently sets him down. He watches as the look on Avery’s face goes from wrecked to relaxed, and he finally takes a peaceful breath.

Michael sighs, pulling the blanket down from the back of the couch and wrapping it around Avery. He bites his lip, wondering if it was a good idea to give Avery his anxiety medication. When Michael takes it, he doesn’t pass out like this. He usually just relaxes a little, only enough to get his mind working properly so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But, Avery is totally out. It’s likely that Avery is just exhausted because of the long day he’s had, but Michael worries anyway. He takes a step back, crashing into the other chair in the living room tiredly. He keeps his eyes on Avery as he gets comfortable, but soon the weight of the day falls over him as well. His eyes are closing, and his troubles drift away as he sinks down into sleep.

* * *

 

The morning sunlight streaming onto his face wakes Avery, and he squeezes his eyes tightly shut to avoid it. He groans, shifting on his bed trying to find a better position. When he finds that he doesn’t have any room to turn, he peeks an eye open, seeing the brown fabric of the couch two inches from his face. He blinks in confusion, moving onto his back to see the ceiling of his living room. 

A clanging noise in the kitchen startles him, and his eyes flash in that direction. He sees Michael in front of the kitchen sink, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” Michael asks, stepping into the living room timidly.

Avery furrows his eyebrows in confusion, trying to understand the scene. What is he doing sleeping on the couch?

“No,” Avery mumbles, and he’s surprised to find that his voice is way thicker than it usually is in the morning. 

He looks at Michael’s face, seeing the concern written all over it. Michael’s eyeing him like he used to do every time Avery fell down in the backyard when he has a kid. 

“Why am I on the couch?” Avery asks, trying to think back to the day before. 

He remembers it starting just like any other day. Hadn’t he been in a really good mood? Yes, because of Emmett.

His stomach suddenly twists at Emmett’s name, and he sits up slowly, trying to remember everything. 

“I, uh, I put you there,” Michael says, watching Avery carefully.

Avery ignores him, staring at a random point in the room as he thinks. He went to the hill yesterday. He wanted to ask Emmett something, but what? Did he get an answer?

Avery sucks in a breath as every detail of the day flashes in his head. The sick feeling escalates, and he wraps his arms around himself. He  _ did  _ get an answer, but it wasn’t the one he was looking for. 

“Oh,” Avery whispers, glancing at Michael.

Michael sees the look on Avery’s face, and he sighs. He walks over to the same chair he had uncomfortably slept on, sitting down and peering at Avery.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asks gently, pulling Avery away from his consuming thoughts.

Avery turns the question around in his head, pondering the answer. Honestly, he’s feeling like the most idiotic person in the world. He’s feeling like his depression caused him to trust the first new person that happened to come into his life, turning him into a naive 13 year old with a crush all over again. He’s feeling like a disappointment to not only himself, but to his brother. And, there’s something else tugging at the back of his mind. The feeling he had that first day after he found Dan dead in his room. That feeling of despair that caused him to stay in bed for days. After last night, it feels fresh in his mind again, like he hasn’t made any progress at all. 

“I feel… tired,” he says simply, unable to meet Michael’s eyes.

“Ave,” Michael starts hesitantly, “What happened yesterday?” 

Avery gnaws on the inside on his cheek, trying to keep his breathing steady as he musters up the courage to talk about it. Really, there’s not that much to talk about. Emmett had said hardly anything, but it didn’t take Avery long to realise that he was making a joke out of something important. 

“He didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Avery mumbles, slowly looking up to look at Michael.

Michael scoffs, raising an eyebrow as he replays Avery’s coming home panic attack in his mind.

“Not physically, I mean. He didn’t touch me,” Avery reassures, guessing what Michael is thinking, “He just… said some stuff.”

“What did he say?” Michael asks, and Avery can hear the protective ‘big brother’ voice forming.

And then, Avery can’t help it. He worries that if he tells Michael exactly what happened and exactly how it made him feel, Michael would find a way to hurt Emmett back. Maybe he’d send Sam after him, or they’d tag team him. Avery wouldn’t put it past Michael. When he gets protective like this, there’s no reigning him in. 

But, why should he care about that? Emmett  _ had  _ hurt him. By saying those things and turning Dan’s death into a joke, he had hurt Avery more than words can comprehend. There’s this nagging voice in Avery’s brain, though, that still cares whether or not Emmett feels the kind of pain that Michael’s probably thinking about. 

Avery turns to face Michael full on, carefully deciding what he’s going to say before he does so, “Honestly, I don’t think he knew what he was talking about.”

Michael furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“The things he was saying, he sounded pretty delusional. Maybe, when Sam said he’s dangerous, he meant he’s crazy or something.”

As Avery says the words, he realises that this explanation would make sense. Maybe, Emmett is totally insane, and he wasn’t trying to intentionally hurt Avery. That would be a little better, right? Well, not for Emmett.

But, something about that doesn’t sound right. There’s something itching at the back of Avery’s brain, something that Avery has thought about before. For some reason, he can’t quite remember what it is, but it makes the crazy Emmett theory seem completely off base. 

Michael crosses his arms over his chest, looking at Avery with squinted, confused eyes, “Okay, then why did you come home having a huge panic attack? You were hysterical, Ave.”

Avery huffs, turning away and brushing his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I don’t know, Michael. He just really freaked me out, okay? I don’t even remember it that clearly. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Michael leans away, and the worried expression is back on his face. Guilt washes over Avery for playing the ‘fragile’ card, but he has too many things to think about. He can’t have Michael giving him the third degree. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Michael sighs, looking down at the ground, “Why don’t you stay home today? I can get coffee on my break.”

Avery frowns, “What? No, I’ll be there.”

“Ave-”

“No, Mike. I’m fine, seriously,” Avery says, and the words sound false to his own ears, “Last night was just… a bad night.” 

Michael scoffs, “Yeah, a really bad night. You need a day to just relax, so take one. You can get back on track tomorrow.”

Avery leans back against the couch, trying to find the will to argue, but honestly, he doesn’t want to leave this spot. He feels too mentally exhausted to even walk to the kitchen to make himself breakfast.

“Do panic attacks always wear you out like this?” Avery grumbles, slightly irritated.

Michael laughs humorlessly, “Well, I think the meds messed you up too, but yeah. They suck, don’t they?”

“It was horrible,” Avery says distantly, remembering how he couldn’t even get his mind to work properly as he sobbed.

“I know,” Michael sighs, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Avery meets his eyes, smiling sadly, “I’m sorry your life sucks,”

Michael chuckles lightly, “I’m sorry yours does too,” 

Avery reaches out, putting a hand on Michael’s arm, “At least we always have each other, right?”

Michael grins, “Yep, always.”

“And you’ve got Sam.”

“Oh look at that, it’s time for me to go to work,” Michael announces loudly, standing up from his chair. 

“Tell Sam hi for me!” Avery teases as Michael begins towards the door.

Michael ignores him, “Stay home today, okay?” he says, pointing a finger at Avery accusingly, his other hand already pulling the door open. 

Rolling his eyes, Avery mutters, “Yes, Mom.”

And then, Avery is alone. He watches the door shut behind Michael, and suddenly the apartment feels like a different place. The room seems to get colder, and Avery wraps the blanket tightly around himself as his eyes scan the empty space. A strange, lonely feeling washes over him. Although less intense, it’s the same sort of feeling that crushed him the weeks after Dan’s death. The feeling that he’s totally alone, and that no one in this too big of a world will find him. 

* * *

 

Sam walks hastily down the sidewalk, his eyes cast down and his mind bubbling with concerns. His “talk” with Emmett last night didn’t exactly go to plan. Well, he didn’t have a plan in the first place, but it certainly went bad. Lately, his tactics for getting information, and doing anything really, have been sloppy. He used to be so good at being patient and taking the methodical approach, but that was before his emotions suddenly got so confusing. 

Just like he’s been doing for the last couple of days, Sam is on his way to see Michael. 

Although he knows it might be an unpleasant visit, he needs to know if Emmett made the move he’d been so eager to make. Actually, it was hard to tell  _ how  _ he felt about making his next move, and he also didn’t seem to know what that move would be. At first, he was angry at Sam for saying anything at all, and he had said he wasn’t planning on saying anything yet. But, that could just be because he doesn’t want to be rushed. Just like most people from Hiraeth, especially arrogant ones like Emmett, they plan down to the last second and hate when those plans get changed at all. On the other hand, what if he isn’t sure he wants to tell Avery anything? What if Sam’s words were actually getting through to him? 

Sam shakes his head to himself. That’s not how committed Hiraethians work. They do whatever they feel is right for Hiraeth, no matter what anyone else tells them. If Emmett came here to take Avery and Michael back there, Sam isn’t likely going to stop him just by talking. 

Either way, Sam has to see Michael. He has to know exactly what Emmett had said to Avery yesterday, and therefore was passed on to Michael. If Michael now knows about Hiraeth, and he suddenly leaves- 

A lump forms in Sam’s throat, and he quickens his pace. Soon enough, he's reaching out to pull open the sandwich shop doors, his eyes automatically scanning for Michael. It doesn't take long to spot him behind the cash register, chatting with someone that just finished ordering a sandwich. There's quite a few people behind her, so he sends her away without much more than a smile. Sam remembers him saying more even when there was a line, but something about Michael's expression tells Sam he's not in the mood to talk to anyone.

As the customer walks away, Michael's eyes find Sam's across the shop, and Sam watches as his jaw tightens. Michael looks away to help the next person, and Sam sighs, taking the seat closest to the door while he waits. His eyes find the wall of the shop as he ponders what exactly he's planning to say.

If Emmett said anything to Avery, did he say anything about Sam? Sam had said that Emmett was dangerous, so would Emmett return the favor? Would he turn Michael further against him then he already is? 

He feels the tightening in his chest, and he pulls away from that. Now, it seems like he might have a fighting chance with Michael. After some time, maybe, they could be together. They could be happy. Hiraeth and magic wouldn't be an issue, and they could just live their New York lives like they had before. But, if Emmett had mentioned Sam and Hiraeth in the same explanation, that would all go out the door. 

He doesn't have much time to consider this though, because the screeching sound of the chair next to him being pulled forward makes him jump. He turns, watching as Michael takes the seat, eyes intent on Sam. Sam looks up at the counter in confusion, seeing that there's still a few people getting their sandwiches made. He also sees Roseanne working the cashier, which is an odd move for Michael to make. He never lets anyone take his job. 

Sam's eyes fall back to Michael, and a thick tension settles around them. He tries to stop it, but he can't help but remember yesterday. His lips on Michael's skin, his hands on his waist. He eyes the table, biting hard on the inside of his cheek.

"Hey," Michael finally breaks the silence.

Sam remembers he's supposed to be trying to figure out if Michael knows anything, so he forces himself to look him in the eye.

"Hi," he mumbles back. If Emmett had said anything about Sam, would Michael even be talking to him right now? It's hard to tell.

Sam clears his throat, "So, what happened with Avery yesterday?"

Michael leans back in his chair with a thump, his eyes casting down to the table. A pensive look is on his face as he says, "Frankly, I have no idea."

Sam blinks in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Michael meets his eyes again, leaning forward on the table unexpectedly, "It was weird, Sam. He comes home after being out all day with Emmett, and he's perfectly fine. He's saying that he trusts Emmett or whatever. Then..." he trails off, and Sam can see the confusion mixed with fear in his eyes.

Michael continues, "Then he leaves again to meet Emmett at 9:00 at night, and he comes back an hour later a total mess!"

Sam leans forward as well, unable to hide the intensity in his eyes, "What was wrong with him? What did he say?"

Michael shrugs, again his eyes on the table as he thinks, "He was incoherent last night. I couldn't understand what he was saying. He was having a panic attack, so I gave him one of my pills and he went under pretty quickly."

"Did he say anything this morning?" Sam asks, his impatience starting to become clear.

Michael eyes Sam oddly, but he still answers, "Yeah, apparently Emmett said some crazy stuff,"

"What did he say?" Sam asks, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I don't know, Sam!" Michael says, leaning back and trying to decipher Sam's expression. 

"Did he say anything about-" Sam was going to ask,  _ did he say anything about me, _ but that would give him away. So, instead he finishes with, "- Avery's brother?"

This, of course, is the worst thing he could possibly ask.

Michael's face goes completely blank for a second, and he freezes in his chair. He stares at Sam, his face slowly morphing into a look that Sam can't read.

Sam's hands clench into fists at his stupidity. He's done it again. As Emmett put it, he opened his big mouth.  _ Why the hell did I say that? _ He curses in his head, his heart furiously pounding as he waits for Michael's reaction.

Michael finally unfreezes, and his voice is barely audible as he asks, "What does Emmett know about Dan?"

"I don't- I, um..." Sam stammers, nervously brushing his fingers through his hair. When did lying become so hard?

"What do you know, Sam? How the hell is Dan involved with any of this? What even is this? What are you not telling me?" Michael's voice gets louder as he speaks, and his eyes lock with Sam's, trapping him there.

"Michael, I can't explain that right now. I think I should go-" Sam mumbles, but Michael cuts him off.

"No! Tell me what's going on! Why would Emmett say something about Dan?"

Sam stares back at Michael, feeling about two inches tall. He can't tell Michael. He vowed he never would, and he has to keep that promise to himself. He has to keep Michael away from Hiraeth. But, how? He's already said way too much. 

"Michael," Sam breathes, leaning closer to him and putting his hand over Michael's, "I need you to trust me right now. I know that's too much to ask, but please. Just trust me, okay? I- I will tell you everything eventually. I just can't right now. I have to go find Emmett. Something... something might happen, and I need to stop it. Please trust me, okay? I have to go," Michael finishes, watching Michael's face turn into a scowl.

Michael's mouth opens, ready to argue, but Sam can't have this argument. Not when his mind is already so frazzled, and clearly he doesn't know how to keep things a secret. Every cell in his body tells him to stay, to find a way to comfort Michael and make him feel secure, but he doesn't. Before Michael can get anything out, Sam is standing up in his seat and turning away. He's pushing the door open a second later, and running out into the frosty air. He doesn't let himself picture the look of betrayal that's most definitely written all over Michael's face. 

* * *

 

Avery paces the floor of his apartment, his blanket wrapped around him as he tries to think. Although he's been desperately trying, he can't get Emmett's words out his head. Every part of him wants to forget about Emmett. He wants to tell himself that it was all just a horrible joke, and he can move on. But, there's something.  _ Something _ so familiar about the things Emmett said. The words themselves were crazy; but the way he was talking about it. And he had said those words, _ The brighter place. _ And, Avery hated to admit it, he hated to even consider it, but as Emmett was talking, he looked like dan. He had the same face that Avery had seen on his brother countless times. The face that Avery never understood. He never tried to understand it; not until now. 

_ No,  _ Avery argued with himself. Nothing about what Emmett said had anything to do with Dan. It was just a crazy, mean coincidence. Emmett probably forced that coincidence. Avery had told Emmett about the way he didn't actually understand his brother. Emmett just used that to make his joke, right? 

Right? 

Avery crashes down on the couch, groaning into a pillow. His stomach hurts so badly right now, and he knows it has nothing to do with sickness, or food. It's because, it's not actually his stomach. It's his heart. It's aching. The more he thinks about Dan, and now Emmett, the more his heart makes his whole body throb.

He sits up, holding his face in his hands as he tries to decipher Emmett's words from the night before. 

_ A different universe. _ Out of everything, those three words are sticking with Avery more than anything. Everything else is mushed together, impossible to understand, but these three words stick out.

This is what reminds Avery so much of Dan. The way he talked about "The brighter place," or the places he'd been. He had never told Avery or Michael  _ where  _ he'd been. And when he talked about it, he had this wistful expression on his face. Like, he knew he could never get there again. And, when Avery was young, he remembered Dan saying someday they'd go somewhere... different. He never said anything specific.

Before Avery had any sense, he would picture a different universe. Nothing was ever solid in his childhood mind; he could never actually see a certain place. But, it was a place that was nowhere near Earth. Nowhere near this solar system. Because, that's the way Dan described it. Like it was completely different than the Earth that Avery knew.

Before he can even notice it's happening, Avery's being sucked up into another memory.

_ The scene is different than it usually is. Instead of a steady moment in Avery's life playing out like it had before, this flashback flies through his mind like a dream.  _

_ Dan is in front of Avery, but the image keeps changing; flickering as Dan's expression and demeanor changes. At first, he's grinning down at a 6 year old Michael, saying something that Avery can't hear. Then, Michael is suddenly 15 years old, and Dan is yelling at him. Avery is there too, also in trouble, but he doesn't argue like Michael. And then, Dan is laughing, sitting next to Avery on the couch as they watch some movie that Dan loved.  _

_ Finally, Avery's mind focuses, and he's sitting on top of the hill with Dan by his side. It's his fifth birthday again, but this time the picture is unsteady, like part of his mind is rejecting what the other half is trying to show him. _

_ When Dan speaks, his voice is warbled, "Someday, we're going to be there. You're going to get to see it. It's magical. You're gonna love it even more than this. Sometimes, people call it the brighter place," _

_ "Magical?" Avery asks, looking at his brother in wonderment, eyes sparkling, just like they had before. _

_ "Yep," Dan whispers, and his eyes glance down at the grass, "Magical. I'll show you someday." _

_ What Avery hadn't seen before, that other day when this flashback took over his mind, was Dan looking down at the grass. It's something he could never remember if he tried, but it saved perfectly in his mind. _

_ Avery follows Dan's gaze, and he sees Dan's finger in the grass, moving in an odd pattern. The image shakes furiously, making it hard for Avery to see anything at all. _

_ Finally, Avery sees that Dan is writing something in the grass over and over again. The strange pattern is letters being drawn onto the grass. Avery strains to see what it is, but even if the picture was steady it would be hard. He's never fought so hard to see what his flashbacks have to show him, and he doesn't know how to make it stable. Actually, he usually not even aware he's in a flashback when it's happening, but this time feels very different.  _

_ Somehow, as if he's gained some 'lucid dream' like control over this memory, he's closer to Dan's hand. Now, he can watch as Dan traces the word into the grass. At first, he thinks he was wrong, and it's just random letters. Then, with a jolt, he realizes it's a word he recognizes. A word that he's not only seen occasionally online, in passing, but a word that was spoken to him yesterday. Spoken to him by Emmett. A word that he hadn't thought to pay attention to. Not until now.  _

_ Hiraeth. _

Avery comes back into his living room with a wild gasp, his head snapping up as he stares around the room. He desperately tries to find Dan, wanting more answers. He stands in complete bewilderment, scanning the entire apartment. But, of course, there's nothing to find. Not his brother, and definitely not answers.

Avery sits back down slowly, letting the crashing wave of sadness hit him. He shuts his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands to try and scrape away the feeling. When he doesn't have any luck, he drops his hands to the couch. Instead of focusing on the pain, he focuses on the word. He's never actively tried to think back to a flashback, so he's hesitant, but this time he has to.

_ Hiraeth.  _ That was just a word. It had a definition, and it was probably in the dictionary somewhere. It's not a place. It can't be.

But then, why was Dan writing it in the grass? Why had Emmett said it when naming where he's from? Avery can accept that coincidences happen. It could be logical that Emmett just happened to stumble upon words that reminded Avery of Dan, but this was too much. Not only did Dan and Emmett use that same word, but Avery's mind is trying to show him the connection. Even when part of him is blocking it out. 

Before his head can catch up with his actions, Avery is picking up his phone. He quickly tries to unlock it, his shaking fingers skipping over some of the numbers. He grumbles when 'incorrect passcode' blinks up at him, and he slows down to type it out correctly. And then, he realizes he has no idea what he's doing. Avery stares at the home screen in bewilderment, his thumbs dancing over all the buttons. 

Slowly, he comes up with an answer, and he scoffs to himself while setting his phone on his lap. He wants to call Emmett. He wants to hear Emmett's full explanation, even if he's not ready to believe it. That part of his brain that wants this whole "Hiraeth" thing to make sense is telling him that he owes it to himself to hear what Emmett has to say. 

But, hadn't he decided that Emmett is crazy? No, that's what he told Michael. Avery leans against the back of the couch in frustration, completely undecided. He picks up the phone, glaring at it like  _ it's _ the reason this is so difficult. 

Then, Emmett's face comes into Avery's mind without his permission. Not the face from last night, and not even the face from on the hill. He sees Emmett sitting in front of him in that stupid bakery, laughing and eating that cupcake just because Avery had asked him to. He sees the smile on Emmett's face whenever Avery rants about something he'd never thought to consider before. He sees the awkward look in his eyes whenever he tried to flirt, or ask Avery to hang out. Only four days had passed since they met, but Avery can remember all of this in perfect clarity.  He can hear Emmett's voice in his head, and he can feel his own head laying on Emmett's shoulder. 

Avery sighs, opening up Emmett's' contact and clicking on the phone icon without a second thought. He holds the phone up to his ear, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek as it rings.

"Avery?" he hears Emmett's voice a moment later, and Avery's chest tightens with anticipation. 

"Mhmm," Avery mumbles, unable to speak because of how dry his throat has suddenly become. 

There's a beat of silence before Emmett says anything else, "Look, I'm so sorry about last night. I know I sounded completely insane and probably like an asshole. I wasn't trying to upset you, I promise. I was trying to tell you-" 

"Can you come over? I have to talk to you," Avery interrupts in a rush, and his eyebrows raise in astonishment at his own words.

Again, there's a pause, and Emmett stammers out, "Uh, yeah, sure. Of course! I'll be right there."

"Okay," Avery answers briskly, before pulling the phone away and hanging up.

He throws his phone to the side, picking up the pillow that's behind him and pressing it to his face. His heart beats erratically, and he has to force himself to take steady breaths. He can feel himself starting to get worked up, possibly like last night, and he begins counting in his head. He doesn't know why, but somehow the steady pace and the simplicity of numbers makes him feel a little better. 

He's not sure how long he sits like this; forcing himself to remain completely calm. He continues counting, although he loses count sometimes, so he starts over. Sometimes, he starts a random number and just goes from there. He sits exactly like that until there's a small knock on the door.

His head shoots up, wide eyes locking on the door. His mind goes blank, and he freezes on the couch. After a few moments, he loosens up, taking a deep breath. He slowly stands up, throwing the blanket off of him. He doesn't notice the pillow dropping to the floor as he makes his way towards the door.

In one motion, he wraps an arm around himself and pulls the door open, sucking in a breath as he peers out into the hall. Just as expected, Emmett is standing in front of him. His fist is raised, like he was preparing to knock on the door again, but it drops awkwardly when his eyes meet Avery's. There's an expression on his face that Avery can't quite read, and Avery tightly smiles at him. He doesn't know why, but it seems like the right thing to do.

"Hi," Emmett breathes, returning the smile.

Avery bites his lip, unsure if he'd be able to speak without his voice shaking, so he just opens the door wider and steps out of the way.

Emmett looks into the apartment, then back to Avery. He takes a breath, then steps inside. Avery closes the door behind him, then turns to look Emmett up and down. He crosses his arms over his chest, but it's more out of feeling uncomfortable then any anger he may or may not be feeling.

Emmett stands in the living room, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he meets Avery's scrutinizing gaze, "I didn't think I'd hear from you again."

Avery clears his throat, "Well, you weren't going to, but..." he trails off, looking off to the side pensively. 

"Look," Emmett starts, and Avery can hear his careful, yet still desperate, tone, "I know I freaked out last night. I went about it wrong, but I'm trying to tell you the truth."

Avery's eyes lock with his, and he doesn't know why, but the word “truth” makes his temper flare, "Who's truth? Yours? My brothers?"

Emmett hesitates, then whispers, "Yours, Avery."

Avery's irritation disappears as quickly as it came, and he has no idea how to respond to that. It definitely isn't the answer he was expecting. He sighs, dropping his arms and crossing the room to take a seat on the couch. He looks up at Emmett expectantly until he sits down as well. He takes the spot furthest away from Avery, and there's a look of the same fear on his face that was there when they were sitting on the hill together.

"Okay, talk," Avery demands, pulling his legs up on the couch and wrapping his arms around them. He puts his chin on his knees as he waits. 

Emmett squints at him, "Are you gonna believe anything I say?"

Avery considers that for a moment, then shrugs, "I haven't decided yet."

A tiny smile flits across Emmett's face, but then he's looking down at the couch with a pensive expression, "Okay, um, you remember the conversation we had about where I'm from?"

If the atmosphere wasn't so tense, Avery would roll his eyes, "Yes, I remember."

Emmett pauses again, thinking something over before he speaks, "I'm not from this world,"

He says the same thing he had said last night, but this time Avery's mind doesn't automatically reject the words. He carefully ponders them, nodding slowly as he waits for Emmett to continue. Instead of saying anything else, Emmett looks over Avery's expression for a long moment.

"You look pretty human," Avery breaks the growing silence, trying to lighten the mood the tiniest bit.

It works. Emmett scoffs, raising an eyebrow at Avery, "I'm not an alien, if that's what you're getting at."

"Oh right, okay," Avery sighs, pretending to be relieved.

Avery's glad to see Emmett's face is a little bit less serious as he continues, and part of him wonders why he wants to ease the tension in the first place. Shouldn't he be feeling way more worked up than this?

"No, it's not another planet," Emmett says, obviously thinking carefully about his words, "It's more of a... parallel universe. Sort of. It's called Hiraeth."

Again, that word hits him like the wintry air outside, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat, "The brighter place, right?"

"Yeah, exactly," Emmett nods, and there's a look in his eye that Avery doesn't understand. 

Avery shakes his head, part of him still fighting to end this irrational conversation, "But, Hiraeth is a word. It means-"

"A longing for home, yeah, I know," Emmett cuts him off.

"Right," Avery nods, "So it's not a place," he says, but it doesn't even sound convincing to his own ears.

"It is a place. It's a whole other land that you couldn't even imagine. It was called Hiraeth a very long time ago, and I'm not gonna pretend to know why," Emmett shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant, but Avery can tell he's still being very careful with what he says.

"The brighter place," Avery mumbles again, his mind going back to that world he thought about as a kid.

"It doesn't surprise me that your brother mentioned it," Emmett whispers, obviously nervous about Avery's reaction to that. 

Avery frowns, taking a deep breath, trying to keep himself from going too deep into his thoughts, "What does he have to do with any of this?"

Emmett opens his mouth, then closes it, considering. He bites his lip, then says, "It's a long story, Avery."

"I don't want a story," Avery mumbles, his eyes falling to the couch as he speaks, "I  want the truth. All of it. You people have been telling so much crap. Michael's telling me you're dangerous because his boyfriend says so. You keep telling me my brother is involved in some crazy... thing... but you can't tell me anything about it. Then, you call me up in the middle of the night and start talking about- I don't even know what. And, now you're telling me about some other world that logic says doesn't exist, yet here I am listening to you. So, I swear to God," Avery meets Emmett's eyes again, determination in his voice, "If you're lying to me, I will lose it. If this is some made up crap, please. Just leave. If you stay, I'm going to listen to every word. I can't promise I'll believe it, but I'll listen. But I need everything. Every detail you've got."

Emmett stares at him for a moment, frozen. Then a timid, yet genuine, smile appears on his face, "Everything," he nods, and Avery can hear the promise.

Avery breathes a shaky breath, letting go of his legs and crossing them in front of him. He leans closer to Emmett, "Okay. So, what does my brother have to do with Hiraeth?"

Emmett visibly relaxes against the couch. His eyes are still on Avery's, but it’s clear his mind is far away as he begins to speak, "He was born there. Your whole family was. And Michael's family."

"Michael? My Michael?" Avery asks, blinking in confusion. 

"Yes, that Michael," Emmett nods, "You two were also born there."

Avery scoffs, "What? No, we were born in New York."

"You said yourself that you weren't sure about that," Emmett says, leaning closer to Avery as he starts explaining with determination, "Did your brother ever tell you anything about why he was raising you in New York in the first place?"

Avery's jaw tightens, "Don't talk to me like you knew him," then, his expression softens, and he tilts his head to the side, "Wait, did you know him?"

Emmett shakes his head, "No, I didn't. But, I knew  _ of  _ him."

Avery squints, not understanding, "Why?"

"Like I said," Emmett starts, and Avery prepares for a long explanation, "You and Michael were born in Hiraeth. But, you had to leave when you were babies. Dan was the one who took you here."

"You said our families were there," Avery interrupts in a rush, "Are they still there?"

Emmett's face falls, and he seems to have trouble speaking for a moment. Finally, he gets out, "There was a war..."

Avery stares at him blankly, then slowly the realization hits him.  _ There was a war. They fought. They died. _ Avery swallows back the lump forming in his throat, focusing on Emmett again, "Right," he says stiffly, "Why did Michael and I have to leave?"

Emmett searches Avery's face, then continues, "Same war. You two had to be protected."

"Just us?" Avery's wonders aloud.

Emmett bites his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase his next words, "Um, you two weren't just born in Hiraeth. You're sort of..." he trails off, blanking.

Avery raises his eyebrows, "Sort of...?"

Emmett huffs, "Well, you two are princes of Hiraeth."

Avery stares at Emmett blankly, not understanding the words. He replays them in his head over and over again. For some reason, this detail seems crazier than anything else.

"What?" Avery finally gets out, shaking his head in complete disbelief.

Emmett takes a breath, looking up at the ceiling as he gathers his thoughts, "Yes, you two are princes of Hiraeth. You guys are actually the missing princes of Hiraeth. Pretty famous," Avery hears a hint of sarcasm in Emmett's voice.

Avery tries to remain serious as he responds, "So, what, our families were royalty?" suddenly, his eyes widen, and he hits Emmett's shoulder with a burst of excitement, "Wait, are me and Michael actually brothers?"

"No, no, it doesn't work like that," Emmett says, his eyebrows raising at Avery's reaction, "The term 'Prince' is actually kind of arbitrary."

Avery huffs, trying to fight that oncoming headache that's bound do come from this weird conversation. 

Emmett continues, "You weren't born into it or anything. It's not like England. It's based on who has the most powerful magic. The kings and queens of Hiraeth are the most powerful, but you guys are next in line,"

Avery blinks, opening his mouth to speak, but then closing it again. He shakes his head, "You've... totally lost me."

Emmett shuts his eyes, letting out a huff, "Okay, I might've forgotten to mention the whole magic thing."

"Mhmm," Avery murmurs, too dumbfounded to say anything intelligent.

"Yeah, Hiraeth is a place for... you could say witches and wizards, but that seems a little too Harry Potter. It's less spells and more... Well, we have power over the natural elements. There's no abra kadabra, we can just, sort of, feel the magic inside of us," Emmett explains, his face growing more disgruntled as he tries to find the right words.

Avery looks down at his hands, furrowing his eyebrows as, again, he's reminded of Dan.

"I know it's... really hard to believe," Emmett sighs, misinterpreting Avery's expression.

"No," Avery murmurs, "I just... Dan said something to me a long time ago. Well, he just said that there was a magical place. I thought he just said it because I was five and it sounded cool, but..."

Emmett nods slowly, "He was talking about Hiraeth."

Avery meets his eyes again, "But Emmett, I don't have any... magic. Michael doesn't either. And this whole prince thing... maybe you have the wrong person," Avery says, and he wonders why this makes him feel so bleak.

Emmett is shaking his head before Avery finishes, "Yeah, you do have magic, Ave. So does Michael. It's just dormant,"

Avery just stares at him, raising an eyebrow.

Emmett adjusts on the couch, facing Avery full on and raising his hands to use them to gesture as he speaks, "Okay, so, it's kind of like the safety on a gun. You've been on Earth your whole life, and you had no idea that magic even existed. So, your body stunted the magic inside of you. It's like half of your mind is sleeping until you're ready to use it. Y'know, so you don't burn some normal human's hair off if they piss you off."

Avery's mouth pops open in horror, "What? I would never do that anyway!"

"Accidentally!" Emmett quickly says, "Your element is fire, so you never know what could happen on accident."

"My element?" Avery asks, his eyes squinting.

Emmett nods, "Yes, every sorcerer has a power over one of the four elements. Well, we can do some other stuff too, but the element is like your power source. You can manipulate it."

"Right. Naturally," Avery mumbles, his mind unable to process any of the information Emmett is giving him. 

"Mine’s Earth."

Avery blinks, not understanding, "What?"

Emmett fidgets awkwardly, "My element. It's Earth."

Avery nods, "Oh..." he trails off, unsure of what else to say to that.

As he tries to process, Emmett sits quietly, waiting for Avery. Part of Avery wants to tell Emmett to leave; he wants to shut this whole conversation down and go back to thinking it's all just some sick joke. He doesn't want to believe any of this, and he doesn't know if he can. But, as he searches Emmett's expression, he knows he can't do that. 

"Wait," Avery says, finally landing on a thought that he can actually respond to, "You said Michael and I are "missing princes". What do you mean by that?"

Emmett looks down, brushing his fingers through his hair, "Um, well..." he trails off, biting his lip.

"Come on, tell me," Avery urges, although now he's afraid of what Emmett might say.

"Well," Emmett sighs, struggling to meet Avery's eyes, "Your brother was supposed to bring you back when Michael turned 18. No one knows why that didn't happen," Emmett says quietly, searching Avery's face.

Avery takes a breath before he answers, trying to ignore the pain he suddenly feels in his chest, "But, he wasn't... I mean he was still around on Michael's 18th birthday."

"Like I said," Emmett shrugs, "We don't know why he didn't take you back."

"So," Avery says hesitantly, unable to meet Emmett's eyes as he asks his next question, "You were sent here to come get us?" 

"I wasn't sent anywhere," Emmett says, and the sudden fierce voice makes Avery jump, "I happened upon you."

Avery raises his eyebrows at him, "Happened upon me?" he says, not convinced.

Emmett looks at him desperately, "It's true. There are some people that are looking for you two, but trust me, I wasn't one of them."

"Why not?" Avery asks, squinting his eyes at Emmett suspiciously, "Seems like kind of a big deal. We are princes and all, right?"

Emmett looks down pensively, clearly unsure of how to answer, "Well, I wasn't looking for you because, maybe Dan had a good reason for keeping you here. I didn't want to mess with that."

"Are you planning on taking us there now? Is that why Sam thinks you're dangerous?" Avery asks in a rush, unable to stop his fears from bubbling over.

Emmett's carefully composed face falters, and the concern in his eyes is real, "That's only why Sam  _ thinks _ I'm dangerous. I would never forcibly bring you somewhere, Avery. Not even if the royalties asked me to. I couldn't do that."

"Why?" Avery whispers, wanting to understand the torment in Emmett's expression.

Again, he opens his mouth, but it shuts. He has to swallow before saying anything else, "My life on Earth sucked. I was happy to leave everything behind to go to Hiraeth. But, that doesn't mean you and Michael had the same experience."

Avery blinks in confusion, "You weren't born in Hiraeth? I thought you said that's where you were from? That is literally what the start of this whole conversation was about-"

"I live there now," Emmett cuts him off, "That's where I consider my home. Remember your whole thing about the “where are you from” question having multiple meanings?" he raises an eyebrow, and there's a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Avery sighs, nodding.

"But, no," Emmett continues, "I wasn't born there. I was born in Oregon. I left as soon as I could, though."

"So you're not magic?" Avery says, holding the sides of his face with his hands to try and ease the headache his confusion is forming.

"No, I am. I was like you, though. I didn't know about it for a long time. My dad was a sorcerer, but he left Hiraeth to marry my mom," Avery wonders why Emmett's mouth twitches as he explains this, "It was my uncle that finally told me about it, despite my dad telling him not to. I thought he was completely nuts, but then he gave me this,"

Emmett reaches into his pocket, pulling out a silver, circular piece of metal that's completely smooth, but thick. Avery leans forward, looking down at it in fascination. Before he can stop himself, he touches a finger to it, and blinks at the strangely soft texture.

"What is it?" Avery asks, his hand still on the small object.

"It's a teleport. Gets me to and from Hiraeth whenever I want. Most sorcerers have one," he shrugs nonchalantly, but when Avery looks at his face, he sees him smiling down at the object with a soft smile.

"fancy present," Avery says, leaning back up to look at Emmett instead of the piece of metal.

"Yep," Emmett chuckles a little, sliding the teleport back into his pocket.

"Why'd you leave? Besides the obvious reasons, of course," Avery asks curiously.

Emmett raises an eyebrow, "The obvious reasons?"

"Yeah," Avery nods, "Y'know, besides the promise of magic and a parallel universe and all that. Why'd you want to leave home?"

The smile on Emmett's face disappears, and Avery watches his eyes tighten. Immediately, he regrets asking the question, "It's not really relevant right now."

Avery grimaces, feeling guilty for some reason. He hadn't meant to pry into Emmett's personal life, even if Emmett seems to know so much about Avery's.

"Okay," he mumbles, his eyes casting down. 

There's a beat of silence as Emmett relaxes again, and Avery gets the courage to meet his eyes. 

"That's pretty much everything I can think of to tell you," Emmett says after a moment, an awkward smile touching his lips, "Do you have any other questions?"

"Only about a million," Avery answers, "But, I'm too confused to phrase any of them," he brushes his fingers through his hair nervously, his mind racing, "Wait, I do have one."

"Ask me anything," Emmett repeats his words on the hill, and this time he definitely seems to mean it.

Avery briefly smiles at that, "What does Sam have to do with all of this?"

"Oh, right. Sam," Emmett says, a look of disdain in his eyes, "He was actually a prince of Hiraeth, way back when."

Avery raises an eyebrow, "Way back when?"

"I don't have any details. They keep stuff like that pretty locked up within the royalties, but he got banished."

Avery's eyes widen, "banished? Like, actually banished?"

Emmett nods, "Yeah, he's not allowed to come to Hiraeth anymore."

"Michael's hanging out with a banished wizard?" Avery says, his fear making his voice way more high pitch than it had been a moment ago.

"Don't worry," Emmett says, "I don't know what happened in Hiraeth, but he seems to care a lot about Michael. As much as it pains me to say this, I'm pretty sure he's a good guy."

"Well, that's-" Avery stammers, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, "Something, I guess."

For a long moment, Emmett doesn't say anything. He watches Avery, who still has his eyes shut, progressively feeling worse.

Eventually, he can't stand the quiet anymore, "Should I leave?"

Avery opens his eyes, searching Emmett's expression. A range of emotions course through him at Emmett's question, but his mind is far too confused to make sense of any of them.

"I don't know," he finally whispers.

Emmett hesitates, then asks, "Do you believe any of this?"

"I don't know," Avery repeats lamely, not able to string any other honest sentences together. 

"I think," Emmett starts, looking down at the couch, "I think I'll leave and... let you think."

"Okay," Avery says, his eyes casting down towards the floor. Again, he has no idea how to decipher the emotions he feels. 

Emmett waits for Avery to say more, and when nothing comes, he stands. Avery looks up at him, wondering if he should say something else, or get up as well. He settles on giving Emmett a small smile. 

Emmett stares at him for a long second, then he smiles back. It's an odd, confused sort of smile, mirroring exactly how Avery feels, but it's a smile nonetheless. 

Then, he's turning away and pulling open the door. He hesitates at the entrance, turning his head to look at Avery one last time. Avery, however, is already looking back down at the floor, a pensive look on his face. Emmett sighs, walking out of the room and letting the door click shut behind him. 

In the silence that follows, Avery begins working on sorting out his thoughts. He tries to start on something easy, like the possibility of Hiraeth being real, but he quickly realizes that that's not easy at all. With Emmett here, it was easier to picture the place and ask questions. But, now that he's gone, Avery is left with only words. Words that could be coming from someone completely insane. 

Now, Avery's mind is rejecting that idea. He doesn't want to think that Emmett is insane anymore. In fact, there's a part of him that desperately wants Emmett to be right. He wants to believe in this alternate universe, full of magic and kings and queens. He can't quite wrap his head around being royal himself, but everything else he wants to believe.

And suddenly, that's what he desperately wants. It's not just a small part of him, but it's all him. He's practically begging for it to be real. Because, here he is, sitting in the tiny apartment where he has lived all his life. This is the apartment where the fights happened. Where he made so many mistakes. The place where he had realized his brain was in the wrong body; where he realized he was a boy, and he was just built wrong. This is the place where so much depression originated; the place where Michael's anxiety started. This is the place where his brother committed suicide. 

He so badly wants Hiraeth to be real, because he would rather believe in a fantasy then be in this apartment, In New York, for another minute.

* * *

 

When Michael gets off of work, the sun is beginning to set. He pulls the door open, and he breathes in the gust of fresh, cold air gratefully. He quickly walks past the door, sitting down on the small bench a few paces from the shop doors. He puts a hand over his heart, feeling it flutter violently in his chest. He looks down at his other hand, watching his fingers tremble. He shuts his eyes, trying to take long, steady deep breaths.

He knows exactly where his anxiety medication is; sitting on the coffee table in his living room where he had placed them last night. This morning he meant to put them in his bag, but what with talking to Avery, he forgot. What an unfortunate day to forget something vital.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone and seeing no one has tried to contact him. Not Avery, and more frustratingly, not Sam. 

Sam is keeping something from Michael. Not something; a lot of somethings. Things about Dan, and possibly Avery. Whatever it is, it has something to do with Emmett, and whatever he had told Avery last night. 

Michael doesn't want to think about it, but realizes Avery might be keeping this from him as well. Of course, he didn't stage a whole panic attack, but he also didn't tell Michael the weird things that Emmett had said to him. 

_ Or, _ he argues with himself, _ Avery was just so freaked out that he didn't think the actual words that Emmett used were important.  _ For some reason, this thought only makes Michael feel worse. Because, Avery has always been a very curious person. Something he and Michael have in common; the don't stop digging until they have the answers they're looking for. So if Emmett hadn't made any sense to Avery last night, Avery would want to talk to him again.

Michael sighs, throwing his head back in frustration. He has absolutely no idea what to do. He should go home and talk to Avery, just like he does every day. Something about the way Avery was talking this morning is suspicious. But more than that, Michael wants to talk to Sam. He actually has something tangible to tell Michael, if he chooses to do so. He told Michael that something might happen. What? What might happen? What did it have to do with Emmett, and more importantly, what did it have to do with Avery? Not to mention; Dan is somehow involved with all of this. 

Michael's stomach twists, and he curls his arms around himself. He takes another deep breath, but now the cold air is starting to get to him. If he starts shivering, that would make everything so much worse.

He stands, unsure of where he wants to go. His feet shuffle as the battle plays out in his head. He should go home. He knows he needs to go home, but...

He makes a noise of frustration, then his feet start moving down the street. Not towards his apartment, but in the direction of Sam's.

It was only the one time that he had been there, but he still remembers the way clearly. He moves with haste, trying to put enough distance between him and the shop that he can't change his mind. His head is screaming at him, telling him to turn around, but he ignores his better senses. He has to talk to Sam, and something tells him that if he calls, Sam's not going to answer. Clearly, he doesn't want to answer Michael's questions, but if Michael just shows up, how much of a choice will he really have? 

He swallows a large lump in his throat, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He nervously looks at the setting sun, hoping that it won't be completely dark when he heads back home. His anxiety couldn't handle something bad happening in the darkened streets of New York. 

* * *

 

It takes shorter than expected for Michael to get to the apartment building. He stares up at it, and it seems to look down at him with a glare. Like it's telling him what he already knows; he shouldn't be here. This is definitely against the rules he has so carefully set for himself. But, he also said he couldn't see or call Sam, so why not break just one more rule? 

As he steps into the building, he can't help the memories that burn through his brain. The blush creeps onto his cheeks, and he keeps his eyes on the ground to avoid looking at anyone that might be on his path to Sam's apartment. 

He remembers the feeling of Sam's hand around his shoulders as they walked through the entryway. Michael had been nervous then, too, but it was drowned out by the feelings of excitement. Of course, at that point, he didn't know where that night would be leading. Michael was chattering constantly, asking Sam all kinds of questions about the apartment, the building, the people around them. He wanted to know everything about Sam's life, and Sam was so willing to tell him. He always answered Michael's questions in as much detail as he could, and was honest about the things he didn't know. That was often how their relationship was; Michael asking far too many questions, and Sam never seeming to get tired of answering them. 

Sam never had to ask Michael anything. Whenever they were together, Michael never hesitated to open up about how he was feeling, things at home, Avery, Dan, anything. He would always fill Sam in on what was going on with him, because not only did he want to know about Sam, he wanted Sam to know about him. There was always something about Sam; something that made Michael want to talk. With anyone else, Michael is always hesitant to say anything unless they speak to him first. But with Sam, he never had the same social anxiety. He could just talk endlessly and ask all the questions he wanted without feeling embarrassed.

It was just like that on that night. All the way up the elevator, and on the walk to Sam's door. 

Michael is at that same door now, trying to push his thoughts away from him. He doesn't want to think about that night. He can't have those thoughts distracting him; not like it did yesterday. Unfortunately, Sam always seems to be a distraction. That's the whole reason for Michael staying away from him in the first place. 

Michael hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other multiple times. His fingers twitch nervously at his sides, and it takes a moment for him to work up the courage to bring his left hand up, ball it into a fist, and knock three times on the door. After he does, he takes a step back, his eyes wide and frozen, as if the door will attack him if he knocks one more time. 

He waits for the door to open, holding his breath. His eyes find the doorknob, waiting for it to turn. He waits, and then he waits some more. After a whole minute has passed, Michael lets out his breath of air. His eyebrows furrow, and he slowly steps forward again. Trying to keep his hands from shaking, he raises it again and knocks three more times. He doesn't step back this time; instead, keeping his hand on the door. His eyes flick down to the doorknob again, and he bites the inside of his cheek, considering.

_ Don't! _ he yells at himself, but his hand is already wrapped around the brass knob and turning.

His eyes widen when the door opens freely, and he quickly shuts it, stepping back into the hall. The door's unlocked; that probably means Sam is home, right? He could be in the shower, which would explain why he's not answering.

Michael squeezes his eyes shut, mustering up the strength to crack the door open, just to hear if the shower is on. He sucks in another breath, gripping the doorknob and pushing the door open. He peeks inside, listening intently. When he hears nothing, he furrows his eyebrows. He takes a hesitant step in the door, trying not to see anything in the front room. Still, he hears nothing.

He considers for a moment, then he calls out, "Sam?"

His heart hammers in his chest while he waits. When there's still no response, he looks behind him, scanning the empty hall. Then, he turns back to the room, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. 

He leans against the door for a moment, his breathing coming out erratically. His heart is pounding furiously, and he puts his hand over his chest, waiting for it to return to a normal pace before moving. 

Unable to stop himself, Michael's eyes peer around the room. He's shocked to find that everything is exactly the way it had been the first time he had been here. The grey couches all turning towards the large, flat screen television. Two bookshelves on the left wall, books stuffed into every nook and cranny. Plenty of coffee stains on the tables in front and beside the couches. There's a wall behind the back couch, but the large archway in the middle of it almost makes it pointless. It leads to the kitchen, where Michael knows there's an island counter where Sam eats. There's a dining table that's hardly used, and on the wall beside it, there's an abstract painting that Sam bought at his first fair in New York. 

To Michael's left, there's a stairway that leads to the second floor. There's a large room that Sam uses as an activity room of sorts. There's a whole row of expensive guitars, and a few work out machines that are frequently used. He has a computer in there too, but Sam doesn't use it that often. He just like the option of having a desktop computer. There's another book shelf, and a small seating area next to a large window.

Michael squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He tries not to remember why he knows the layout of Sam's apartment so well, but he can't help it. It tears through his mind like a slap.

That night, Michael was teasing Sam. A while before that, Michael has asked Sam to describe his apartment to him, just to see if he could. Sam did, but that night Michael wanted to know if he was right.

"So, if you're wrong," Michael joked, leaning against the door in the hallway, facing Sam, who was standing in front of Michael with a small smile, "You owe me, like, 20 dollars."

Sam raised his eyebrows, laughing a little, "20 dollars? And why is that?"

"That's obviously how it works, Sam. When you ask someone to explain their apartment and their wrong, they owe you 20 dollars. Keep up." Michael scoffed teasingly.

Sam rolled his eyes in amusement, leaning forward to open the door with Michael still leaning on it. Michael had been distracted by how close Sam was suddenly, and when he stumbled backwards, they both laughed hysterically. They were almost drunk on each other's company; so content with being around each other that things like that happened a lot. Plus, it was a late night and they were both a little drowsy.

Michael had walked through the entire apartment, his hand in Sam's, who was trailing behind him. Michael pointed at everything that Sam had mentioned in his explanation, surprised by how spot on he had been. 

Afterwards, Michael lounged on a barstool in Sam's kitchen, watching Sam make them both something to eat. 

"What's your favorite food?" Michael asked, his arms stretched out on the island counter. 

Sam grinned down at the pasta he was moving from the pot into a big bowl, "Definitely the sandwiches you make for me," he announced, looking over at Michael when he finished with the pasta.

Michael laughed, "Oh yeah, I'm sure. Because cheap sandwiches and chips makes the best lunch."

Sam snorted, turning away from the pasta bowl and leaning against the counter to look at Michael, "I don't think it counts as cheap when I get one everyday."

"We thank you for your constant support," Michael grinned, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

Sam crossed the room, sitting down on the barstool next to Michael. He placed his hands on the edges of Michael's seat, spinning it around to face him.

“So,” Sam raised an eyebrow, leaning his right elbow on the counter as he looked at Michael, “Why didn’t you want to go home today?”

Michael realizes he still has his back pressed against the door, and he takes a step forward. As weird as it is to be in Sam's apartment after such a long time, there's also something strangely comforting about it. That night, this place had been his place of sanity. 

He walks more into the living room, sliding his jacket off and setting it down on the arm of the sofa. He glances at the tv, the book shelves, even the rug on the floor. It's all familiar; something he'd tried to keep out of his mind so much that it stuck there like glue. Every detail. Michael takes a seat in the middle of the couch, sighing. He leans back, telling himself he's only here to wait for Sam to get back, but in reality just wanting to feel the same sense of calm he felt that night.

The answer to Sam's question was the usual one; Dan. Dan was always getting onto Michael about curfews, and hanging out with the wrong people. The fight was becoming a regularly scheduled thing, and Michael needed a break. So, when Sam asked him if he wanted to have dinner at his apartment after work, Michael didn't object. He didn't want to go home to face Dan, and more than that, he didn't want his day with Sam to end. 

It was supposed to be an innocent night; two friends hanging out with each other after a long day. But, Michael and Sam's relationship didn't exactly scream "just friends." Even before they became close, they had a chemistry between them that nobody could deny. Much to Michael's embarrassment, Roseanne teased him about it constantly. That's all it was, though; Chemistry. Even back then, Michael was careful about his relationship with Sam. He wanted to be around Sam constantly, and he wanted their relationship to go further, but he was scared. He didn't want to mess anything up, and he didn't want Sam to disappear. 

So, when he went to Sam's apartment, he didn't have any expectations. It was the first time they had actually been together at one of their apartments, but Michael didn't think that would change anything. 

However, when they actually sat down and had dinner together, the mood started changing a lot. 

Michael sighs, looking down at the coffee table for something to distract himself. All he wants to do is remember that night, but he needs to focus. Sam is keeping something from him, and he has to know what it is. He doesn't have time to fantasize about the things that happened in the past, and he definitely doesn't have room in his head to think about how much he wants it to happen in the future. 

* * *

 

As soon as Avery steps outside, the cold air seems to swallow him. He grimaces, pulling his jacket tightly around himself as he starts heading down the sidewalk. As freezing as the evening air is, Avery has to get outside to properly think. All afternoon, he's been trying to sort out his thoughts in the warmth of his living warm, swathed in his blankets. It was getting him absolutely nowhere, so he forced himself to pull on some actual clothes and leave the stuffy apartment.

The problem isn't the setting though, he quickly realizes. It's that; Emmett said too many things that didn't make any sense. Maybe Avery could wrap his mind around magic, if that's all it is, but there has to be a whole other world, and he had to be some sort of prince of that world. It just can't seem to add up in his mind. It's too much. 

Actually, Hiraeth itself isn't that confusing. Well, yes, it is. Avery can believe it, though. Avery can believe that there's a universe full of magic. Being someone who's always wanted something more than extraordinary, Hiraeth is something he somewhat understands. It's more so the part that Avery means something to this world. People are actually looking for him. His brother had been part of the whole scheme to take him away from it. Not only Avery, but Michael as well. According to Emmett, Avery and Michael seem to be this key to something they can't begin to unlock. 

Avery shakes his head at himself; it's stupid to think he understands the Hiraeth part either. Just because he's always wanted something like that to be real, doesn't mean it is. And, even if it is, it doesn't mean he has any idea what it's like. Sure, he has a few abstract visions of it, but he came up with those when he was still in elementary school. That doesn't count as understanding. 

Still lost in thought, Avery hardly notices the distant voice until they're close enough for him to make out the words. Avery looks up, his eyebrows furrowing. He looks around, seeing that the sidewalk is relatively empty, except for two figures standing on the opposite side of the street, having a heated conversation. 

Avery can't help it; his curiosity takes over and he sinks closer to the wall to eavesdrop. It takes Avery a moment, because the wind is making it hard for him to open his eyes completely, but he finally realizes that one of the people arguing is Emmett. Mostly, it's the voice that clues Avery in.

"What did you expect?" Emmett hisses at the other person, and the sharp glare that’s on his face makes Avery blink in surprise.

"Maybe I expected you to have some sense! But no, of course you just had to tell him everything. Your just like any other Hiraethian!"

Avery gasps quietly, leaning closer from where he's standing, still unnoticed by the two.  _ Hiraethian _ ; so this is someone else that's part of Emmett's world. 

Avery tears his eyes away from Emmett, finally focusing on the other figure. Of course, it's Sam. Still, Avery's eyes widen when he sees him there. He takes a step back, suddenly very uneasy.

"I had to tell him! He wanted to know, Sam!" Emmett responds, obviously trying to hold back his frustrations. 

"Don't pretend this is for his benefit. You're being a good little Hiraeth soldier," Sam says mockingly, stepping closer to Emmett intimidatingly.

"You know, you're starting to become a real pain in the ass," Emmett says, pushing Sam backwards forcefully. 

Avery gasps again, and he covers his mouth with his hand, feeling lucky that Emmett and Sam are too wrapped up in their argument to notice anything else.

"Why do you even care?" Emmett continues, "It's not like I told your boyfriend. I just told Avery. I don't even think he believes me."

"Of course he believes you! He has magic in his blood, Emmett. He's pretty much unable to not believe you," Sam fumes.

Avery furrows his eyebrows, uncomfortable at the fact that he's being discussed by these two. Again, someone seems to know more about Avery then he, himself, does. Coming from Emmett, it's weird. But now coming from Sam, it's so much worse. Sam is someone who was not only born in Hiraeth; he was also a prince himself. Based on his face, and Emmett's grimace, he seems to know way more about Hiraeth then Emmett does.

Then, something clicks in Avery's brain. He plays Sam's words over again in his head.  _ He has magic in his blood.  _ Magic. Hiraeth. Now, it isn't just one person telling Avery that all of this is real. It's two people. Accidentally, and probably against what he wants to happen, Sam has just confirmed what Avery wants to believe so badly. 

Hiraeth is real. It's the place where Avery was born. It's where his family is from, and it's where his family died. Dan was born there. Dan had a life there. Dan had to take Avery and Michael away.

Flashes of something bright enters Avery's brain, and he clasps his hands over his head, gasping wildly. He knows it's coming before it hits this time; the memory. The flash back. He tries to push it away, but it's no use. His eyes squeeze shut, and he's no longer watching Emmett and Sam fight. 

 

_ He's younger than he'd ever been in any of his flashbacks, and he's in the arms of a woman he doesn't recognize. She's not looking at him, but he can see that there are tears streaming down her face. Unbeknownst to why, he reaches up to touch her. He sees that his arms are small and chubby, his fingers curling into a tiny fist, and then uncurling randomly. _

_ "Dan, you have to take her," the woman says, and Avery's eyes fall on the only other person in the room. _

_ He's young, and he has bushy red hair falling into his face. He looks tired, yet his eyes are alert. It looks like he's been woken up with a start, and he's still confused as to what's going on. _

_ "Mom, what are you talking about?" Dan asks, and Avery hears the tremor in his words and his their eyes meet. _

_ "Avery has to leave. She's not ready to be a part of this war," the woman explains, finally looking down at Avery. _

_ "Leave?" Dan asks, shaking his head in confusion, "Leave where? Why do I have to take her?" _

_ "It has to be you, Dan. Your father and I have to stay and fight. You have to take her to Earth," she explains, kneeling down to look Dan in the eye. _

_ "No, I can't!" Dan shouts, and the sounds of screaming outside cut him off before he can say anything else. _

_ "You have to!" The woman says, tears streaming quickly down his cheeks, "You have to take them both." _

_ Dan looks up at her, his eyes wide and shiny with tears of his own, "Both?" _

_ "Yes, you have to take Michael, too. They have to be protected," She says desperately, and then she's holding Avery out to Dan. _

_ Again, Dan looks down at Avery, his eyes wide and confused. He seems to be completely frozen, not knowing what to do. _

_ "Dan, please," the woman whispers, and Dan refocuses. _

_ In bewilderment, he holds his arms out, and Avery is passed to him. Despite the atmosphere, Dan timidly smiles down at him, his eyes still wide with fear. _

_ "I- I can't take them both!" Dan cries, looking up at his mother. _

_ "You have to! Here," the woman says, passing him a basket. _

_ Dan's eyes widen when he realizes what she's saying, "You want me to put her in there?"  _

_ "Yes, Michael's already inside. They'll both fit. You can do this, Dan," the mother says, and the strain in her voice almost makes it impossible for her to convey the confident tone. _

_ Dan hesitates, looking down at Avery again. He looks up his mother, the tears finally spilling over, and his hands tremble.  _

_ "I don't want to go!" he says, and his voice cracks. _

_ The woman's composure breaks, and she puts both of her hands on his shoulders, "I know. I don't want you to go either. But, if you stay, you could die. So could your sister. So could Michael. You have to do this for Hiraeth, Dan. You have to go." _

_ Dan shuts his eyes for a moment, and then he grabs the basket. He opens it carefully, looking down at the other baby inside of it. And then, Avery is set inside, and all he sees is darkness. The voices outside are muffled, and then the basket starts to move. Unable to do anything else, he starts crying.  _

_ "Don't worry, Avery," the sound of Dan's voice outside of the basket surprises him, "Your big brothers got you. Everything's gonna be fine, okay?" _

_ Avery continues to cry, not understanding his brother's words. He wants to go back to the woman, and he wants to be in his own bed and his own room. He sees the other baby next to him, and that only makes him cry more. He doesn't want to be in this small basket with someone else.  _

_ Still wailing, he feels the basket cease it's moving. He quiets down, curious as to what's happening. He hears Dan's shaky breathing above him, and there's a clicking noise. Then, a bright white light covers his whole vision, and his eyes squeeze tightly shut. _

* * *

 

Emmett hears the gasp. He turns away from Sam, who’s still looming over him, towards the noise. At first, all he feels is anger at someone listening to them. Then, as he watches Avery fall to the ground, his rational thought completely shatters.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing; all he can see is Avery lying on the cold floor with his eyes shut. Before he catches up with the fact that he’s moving, he’s by Avery’s side, Sam completely forgotten. 

Emmett kneels down on the ground, lifting up Avery’s head and setting it on his legs. He gently taps Avery’s cheek, trying to see if he’ll wake up.

“Avery? Ave?” He hears the panic in his voice, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now.

“Is he breathing?” Emmett realises Sam is beside him, and his eyes flash up for a second to meet his.

“Of course he’s breathing!” Emmett shoots backs angrily, but the tremor in his voice takes most of the acid away.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam asks, sitting down beside Emmett and looking down at Avery with a confused expression.

“I don’t know, I just saw him fall. This happened when we first met, but he just said he slipped. How long was he standing there?” Emmett says, his words coming out quick.

Emmett doesn’t pull his eyes away from Avery’s face. He sees Avery’s eyes moving beneath the lids, like he’s dreaming. Other then that, he’s completely still. Emmett taps on his cheek again, and he pulls more of Avery’s upper body onto his lap. He’s very aware of how cold the sidewalk is. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t even see him,” Sam answers the question that Emmett already forgot he asked.

“Avery, wake up!” Emmett says loudly, giving Avery a small shake. 

“We have to get him out of here, Emmett,” Sam says, causing Emmett to finally tear his eyes away from Avery’s face.

“Yeah, no shit,” Emmett snaps, his panic making his temper flare.

Sam glares at him, “Let’s take him up to his apartment.”

Emmett nods, wanting to get Avery out of the cold air, but then another thought crosses his mind, “No, we can’t!”

“Why not?”

Emmett scoffs, “Because if Michael comes home and sees us all there he’ll throw a fit. Thanks to you, I seriously he doubt he wants to see me.”

“Michael doesn’t throw fits,” Sam hisses. 

“Really? Is that what’s important right now?” 

Sam’s lips form a tight line, then he sighs, “Alright, fine. My place isn’t that far from here, well take him there.”

Sam leans closer to Avery, and suddenly he’s lifted away from the ground and Emmett’s lap. Sam stands with Avery in his arms, already turning on his heel and walking at a quick pace.

Emmett jumps to his feet, stumbling after Sam, “Hey!” he seethes.

Sam doesn’t respond, and he rolls his eyes as Emmett matches his pace and glares at him furiously. Then, Emmett’s eyes are on Avery again, worry clouding them. He doesn’t say it, but the look on Emmett’s face confuses Sam. So far, all he’s seen from Emmett is a cold, arrogant exterior. Sam had assumed that Emmett was only talking to Avery for his own benefit, and that he couldn’t care less about his squabbles with Sam. It’s jarring to see the open, caring expression he has on his face when he looks at Avery. It makes him seem less like a Hiraethian, and more like a human. Without actively deciding to do so, Sam begins to hate Emmett a little bit less. 

Avery doesn’t wake up until Sam and Emmett are already heading into the apartment building. He grumbles quietly without opening his eyes, trying to understand why he seems to be moving.

“Avery?” He hears Emmett’s voice, and confusion floats through him.

He opens his eyes, and he flinches when instead of Emmett, he sees Sam peering down at him. 

“Wh-wha-” he stammers, shifting in what he realises is Sam’s arms, “Emmett?”

“Are you okay? Put him down, Sam,” Emmett says, and Avery finds him standing next to Sam. 

“Can you stand?” Sam asks, but Avery is distracted by the scenery around him.

They’re standing outside, in front of a building that Avery has never seen before. Or, it’s just one he’s never looked for before. He’s probably seen it on his many walks on the city streets.

“Avery?” Emmett gets his attention, and they lock eyes.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good,” Avery says, and his face flushes when he becomes aware of Sam’s arms around him.

“Okay,” Sam mumbles, setting Avery carefully down on his feet.

Emmett’s arm is already there for Avery to use to steady himself, and when he does, Emmett pulls him into his arms. Avery’s eyes widen in shock, and he can’t help but grin into Emmett’s shoulder.

“What the hell happened to you?” Emmett questions, still hugging Avery tightly.

Avery thinks back, trying to remember the moments before his flashback. He pulls away from Emmett, his eyes on his shoes as he thinks.

“I was… taking a walk. Clearing my head, y’know? And then… I heard you guys fighting,” he says, looking between Emmett and Sam with narrowed eyes.

Emmett and Sam’s eyes meet for a moment, and then Emmett looks back down at Avery sheepishly.

“And then I, well…” he trails off, looking up at Emmett with an expression that Emmett can’t read.

“You passed out or something. You really scared me. Are you okay?” Emmett asks, his hands still on Avery’s upper arms. 

“Um, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it happens sometimes. I’ll explain later, okay?” Avery says, briefly glancing at Sam, trying to convey that he doesn’t want to say anything while Sam is around. 

Emmett eyes Avery nervously, wondering if Avery is actually okay. He doesn’t like the sound of  _ It happens sometimes. _

“I’m fine,” Avery promises, and the look in his eyes is genuine.

Emmett sighs, releasing Avery and nodding. 

“Great,” Sam says unexpectedly, and both Avery and Emmett look over at him, “We need to talk. Now that you’re in the know,” Sam says, directing his gaze to Avery, “I have to explain some stuff.”

Avery hesitates, searching Sam’s expression. He seems to be upset, but not irritated or angry like he had been a moment ago. Or, when he was fighting with Emmett, that is. He seems just as worried as Emmett had been about Avery, but probably about something else. Probably about Avery knowing what Sam doesn’t want Avery to know. This conversation is going to be about Hiraeth, not Avery passing out on the sidewalk. Fantastic.

Sam opens the apartment building door, and they all bustle on. Emmett huffs in irritation, not looking forward to whatever Sam is planning to say to Avery. What did he have to explain, anyway? Maybe he’ll just try to convince Avery not to say anything to Michael, which would be perfectly fine with Emmett. 

Avery stays close to Emmett as they walk through the lobby and on the elevator, lost in thought about Sam. All he knows about Sam is that he used to be a prince of Hiraeth, and then he got banished. According to some of the movies that Avery has seen, if someone gets banished, it means they’re not very trustworthy. But, there’s also the fact that Michael trusts Sam. Really, that’s the only reason Avery is willing to listen to him now. Sam cares about Michael; Avery could see it himself that day in the sandwich shop. He could be lying about his past, but he cares about Michael. To Avery, that make all the difference. He could hear Sam out about Hiraeth as long as that fact remains.

Plus, Avery wants to know why it upsets Sam so much that Avery now knows about Hiraeth. There’s a reason that Sam doesn’t want Avery and Michael to step foot there, and maybe he’s about to find out why. Maybe he’s banishment has something to do with him finding out information that the others didn’t want him to know. That’s another popular trope in movies. 

Avery internally rolls his eyes. This isn’t a movie.

They get to Sam’s floor, and Sam leads them to his apartment, Avery shuffling behind them now. His eyes are on the carpet as he walks, trying to decipher how exactly he had gotten to this point in such a short amount of time. Periodically, Emmett glances over his shoulder, making sure Avery doesn’t fall over again. 

They stop when they get to Sam’s door, and Avery leans against the wall as Sam digs for his keys. Emmett sighs impatiently, earning an exasperated glance from Sam. If Avery wasn’t feeling so an edge, he would’ve laughed. 

Sam pulls the key out his pocket, and put a hand on the doorknob, ready to open when the other hand unlocks the door. When he does, however, he realises that the door is already unlocked. He grimaces, remembering how he had left in a hurry to find Emmett just a few hours before this. He pushes the door open, ready to throw his jacket on the coffee table and throw himself down into a chair, but as soon as he takes the first step towards the living room, he freezes. 

His heart leaps out of his chest when he sees Michael sitting on the sofa, staring bug eyed at him as well.

Michael clears his throat, “Um, sorry, the door was unlocked and-”

Then of course, Emmett shoves his way into the room, and Michael’s eyes land on him. The expression on Michael’s face shifts until it settles on angered confusion. Emmett stares back at Michael with the same face. 

“What are you doing here?” Emmett asks, causing Michael to flush with anger.

Michael’s eyes go from Sam, who’s still hasn’t moved, and Emmett over and over again. He stands up from where he’s sitting, stepping into the middle of the living room.

“What the hell are  _ you  _ doing here?” Michael retorts at Emmett, but his eyes move to Sam with a glare.

“I was invited,” Emmett says, drawing Michael’s attention back to him.

“Invited?” Michael spits back.

“Michael,” Sam finally speaks, taking a few more steps into the room, “This is… a long story,” his voice is small and strained, but it doesn’t matter. Michael isn’t listening to him.

His glare is on Emmett now, and all he can think about is Avery crashing into the apartment last night, tears streaming down his face. The only think he had muttered was Emmett’s name.

Michael’s jaw tightens, and he’s suddenly lurching forward and shoving Emmett backwards into the doorframe, “What the hell did you do to Avery?”

Emmett’s eyes widen in shock, and his hand automatically flies back to cup the back of his head where it hit the wall. Then, his eyes narrow and he steps forward. He grips the edges of Michael’s shirt, pushing him backwards and roughly shoving him back down on the couch.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Emmett barks, looming over Michael with his hands still on his shirt. 

“Emmett!” Avery’s voice cuts through the room, and automatically Emmett lets go of Michael and spins on his heel. 

Avery is standing beside Sam now, a horrified expression on his face directed at Emmett. Michael blinks up at him in shock, again rising from the couch, momentarily forgetting about his anger at Emmett. 

“Avery?” Michael asks in confusion, as if he’s not seeing things correctly, “What are you doing with them?”

Avery turns away from Emmett to meet Michael’s eyes, a guilty expression crossing his features, “Um, it’s a long story,” he repeats the same thing that Sam had said. 

Michael narrows his eyes furiously, looking between Avery and Sam. Then, he fixates on Emmett again, still talking to Avery, “What so you’re hanging out with him again? After yesterday? Both of you?” He shoots a glare at Sam.

“Mike, it’s okay,” Avery says, trying to sound calm.

Michael turns on Avery, “Bullshit! Did you see yourself last night?”

Emmett clenches his hands into fists, remembering Avery’s face from last night, right before he ran out of the coffee shop, “I didn’t do anything to him, alright?” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, and everyone turns to look at him with wide eyes, “Because it’s clearly not Avery you have a problem with. Michael, on the other hand,” Sam accuses Emmett with a sharp glare.

Emmett splutters, “Your boyfriend’s being a bitch!”

“Yeah, well Avery’s is a psycho,” Michael mutters back, folding his arms across his chest and fuming at Emmett. 

And then, it’s like a bomb explodes in the room. Everyone begins yelling over each other; all four of them crowding the living room with their voices. Avery gives up first, melting against the wall and holding the sides of his head with his hands. He tries to make out who is yelling at who, but it’s impossible. He wonders if they even know what they’re fighting about, or even what they’re saying. Avery can’t help but be reminded of Michael and Dan; squabbling constantly in the kitchen or the living room. Just like now, he could never really tell what they were fighting about.

He searches his mind for the right words to get them to stop. He looks at Michael with a desperate expression, wanting to tell him everything, but the explanation sticks in his throat. It chokes him, and he doesn’t understand why. Doesn’t Michael have a right to know just as much as Avery? But, he can’t bring himself to do it. He wraps his arms around himself hopelessly, silently begging for the noise to stop.

“You know what?” Avery catches Emmett’s voice over everyone else, “I’m over this.”

Emmett meets Avery’s eyes from across the room, and a range of emotions cross his face. He shoves past Michael and Sam, but then he hesitates in front of the door.

Avery stares at him intently, trying to read his mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Emmett sighs, shaking his head at the floor, and then he’s walking out of the door. Avery follows him with his eyes, feeling like a piece of himself is being ripped away. 

That look; it felt like goodbye. The way Emmett stared at him just before he walked out was like he was saying everything he couldn’t say. Sure, maybe it’s silly and stupid for Avery to feel this way about someone he just met 4 days ago, but he can’t help it. Emmett brought the joy back into Avery’s life, and now he’s walking away. Avery only has one guess as to where he’s going. 

When he finally turns back to the living room, he realises that the room is now silent. Michael is staring at Avery, and Sam is staring at Michael. Avery can feel the tension coming off of both of them. 

“Avery, what the hell were you thinking?” Michael finally speaks, turning his scowl onto Avery.

Avery blinks in surprise, “What?”

Michael throws his hands in the air in frustration, “Seriously? You’re still looking at him with heart eyes! He’s not good for you, Ave. Didn’t last night prove that?”

Avery looks over at Sam with panic in his expression, silently begging for some way to respond to Michael. Every instinct he has is telling him to just tell him the truth, but he, himself, has just now started to wrap his mind around the fact that everything Emmett told him is true. There’s no possible way to explain it to Michael right now, especially when he’s clearly already freaking out. 

Those are just excuses, and Avery knows it. If he wanted to, he could sit Michael down and talk everything out, and Michael could sense the truth just like Avery did. In reality, Avery just wanted to leave. Every part of him wants to follow Emmett. He shifts his weight to his other foot, leaning towards the door from where he stands.

“I…” Avery struggles for words, his eyes falling to the floor.

He needs to stay. Michael had said it before; they need each other too much. Is that really true, though? Or, is it really that Avery needs  _ him  _ too much. For so long, Avery has been relying on Michael because that’s what he’s always done. Michael has always been a part of his life, his brother, and for these last few months, Avery has been using him as a crutch. Well, maybe it’s time for something different.

“I have to go,” Avery whispers, meeting Michael’s eyes briefly.

Avery only sees the look of confusion in Michael’s eyes for a half a second, because then he’s turning and sprinting out of the room.

He runs down the hall, skidding around the corner and running right passed the elevators. He keeps moving, heading for the doorway that leads to the stairs. He doesn’t let himself think as he pulls open the door. He doesn’t question himself as he starts flying down the stairs. He holds onto the railing, hoping he doesn’t miss a step. Instead of fearing the pain that would inevitably come from that, he just doesn’t want to slow himself down. 

Although he’s winded, he doesn’t let himself stop when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. He shoves open the door without pause and jumps into the front lobby. In the corner of his eye, he sees the woman behind the counter jump, but he ignores her. He heads straight for the front doors, shoving them open and stepping out into the freezing night air. 

Now, he lets himself breathe. The questions come pouring into his head, along with accusations that he quickly pushes away. He knows that the right thing to do here is to stop and think about his decisions, but if he’s right, there isn’t any time for that. 

Avery scans the blackness, searching for a sign of Emmett anywhere. He grimaces at the sky, silently curses the season for bringing darkness this early at night. 

He starts down the street, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the chill starts seeping through his jacket. He tries to listen for the sounds of footsteps anywhere, but the wind is howling. Slowly, he realises how foolish he must seem.

He thinks back, remembering the small teleport that Emmett had shown him earlier in the day. It could take him to Hiraeth whenever he wanted. He’s probably already gone.

Avery’s heart sinks, and his face flushes in embarrassment. How stupid he had been to think that Emmett would be right outside the building. Emmett had said he had enough; so did that mean he had had enough of Avery too?

“Avery?” he jumps at the voice, a gasp leaving his mouth as he looks up from where his gaze fell to the sidewalk.

Excitement bubbles up in Avery again as his eyes find Emmett, leaning against a building not 10 feet from where Avery is standing. He feels stupid for not noticing him sooner, but he grins anyway, running the last few steps and standing in front of Emmett.

“Hey,” Avery says lamely, suddenly unsure of what exactly he wants to say. 

Confusion is written all over Emmett’s face as he eyes Avery. “Hi,” he mumbles, too distracted to say anything else. 

“You just kind of left,” Avery states, feeling more stupid as the seconds tick by.

“Yeah, I…” Emmett trails off, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. 

“Without saying goodbye,”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me too,”

Avery hesitates, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest cautioning him. As he stares into Emmett’s eyes, he forces the words out, “I thought you’d be… going home.”

Emmett looks down at the ground for a moment, and Avery thinks he sees his cheeks redden, “I was thinking about it.”

“What made you wait?” Avery asks, unable to keep the question from bubbling out. 

Emmett glances at Avery, raising an eyebrow as if to say,  _ isn’t it obvious?  _ Emmett takes a step forward hesitantly, but there’s an excitement behind his eyes that Avery can clearly see from this close up. Avery’s heart is fluttering wildly, and he hopes it isn’t audible to Emmett. There’s fear coursing through him, but more than that, there’s a sense of thrill warming him from the inside-out. 

“Do you want to come with me?” Emmett finally asks, and Avery can’t help the excitement fueled giggle that escapes past his lips.

The enthusiasm is radiating off of Emmett now, and he can’t help but take Avery’s hands in his own as he speaks, “It’s beautiful there, Avery. I can show you everything! I can show you how to use your magic. I can bring you to the palace, if that’s what you want. But we don’t even have to do that! We can just go through the town. I know you’ll love it! The people there are-”

“Emmett!” Avery laughs, putting a hand over his mouth, “Let me think for two seconds, okay?”

Avery pulls his hand away, seeing the sheepish grin spread across Emmett’s face as he nods. Avery grins back, but then he has to look away. Now that Emmett has asked the question, and the option is in the air, Avery  _ has  _ to take the time to think about this. Avery looks over his shoulder, still able to see Sam’s apartment building. Michael is still in there, probably grilling Sam for answers. Has Sam calmed him down enough so that he doesn’t go after Avery, or are both of them just as bewildered as Avery is right now?

He looks back at Emmett, seeing the look of hope and nerves mixed in his expression. This is a big leap to take, especially since yesterday, Avery couldn’t dream of a place like Hiraeth even existing. Now, there’s only the smallest sliver of doubt that’s drowned out by everything else he’s feeling. If he goes to Hiraeth, it can’t be some big promise to stay. He would have to come back. If he goes now, it would just be a quick trip, and then he would come back and explain everything to Michael, if Sam hasn’t already. Just one little weekend in a magical universe; Avery can do that. Now, there’s just one other issue.

“Emmett,” Avery speaks after the whole length of a minute has passed, “I have to ask you something.”

“Anything,” Emmett promises, just like he had before. This is the third time, actually. 

Three times Emmett has promised to tell Avery whatever he wants to know, and he’s come through. He has told Avery everything. Every question that Avery asked was answered. But, there’s still one question that Avery has been scared to ask.

“I trust you, Emmett,” Avery starts nervously, “And yet, everyone seems to be telling me not to. I keep ignoring them, and trusting my instincts about you. I want to do that now, but this is sort of a huge decision to make, so I’m going to ask,” he hesitates, seeing the smile slowly falling from Emmett’s face, “Am I right to trust you?”

Emmett takes a deep breath, struggling to keep his eyes on Avery as he speaks. As much as he wants to scream;  _ Yes!  _ Without any doubts, he can’t. He can’t predict the future; he has no idea what’s going to happen when they get to Hiraeth. 

But, as he looks into Avery’s pleading eyes, eyes that have become so familiar to him in the last couple of days, that answer seems stupid. Emmett has, without a doubt, put all of his trust into Avery. So, shouldn’t Avery be able to do the same? Can’t it just be that simple?

“Avery, I’m never going to do anything to intentionally hurt you,” Emmett starts, trying to find the words to properly explain, “If you want to go, we can go. If you don’t, you don’t. If you do go, I’ll do whatever I can to make you get what you need. If that’s answers, I’ll answer your questions. If it’s magic, I’ll show you some magic. If you need to come back home, I’ll take you home. There’s no pressure here. I don’t have ulterior motives, and I’m not working for anyone to kidnap you. I just want to show you what’s been hidden from you all your life.”

Avery searches his expression, trying to find anything that denies what he’s saying in his eyes. Because he didn’t get a direct answer, and for some reason he feels like he needs one, he whispers, “So I can trust you?” he hears the desperate tone in his voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Emmett smiles softly, “Yes, you can trust me,” he whispers back.

Avery releases the breath of air he was holding, and a wide grin appears on his face. Emmett is so taken aback by the dazzling change in expression that it takes him a moment to regain his ability to move.

“Okay,” Avery muses, “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Emmett laughs, suddenly very aware of his hands still holding Avery’s. Instead of letting go, he tightens his grip, too cheerful to pull away.

“How do we, uh, I mean, how do we get there?” Avery wonders aloud, the thrill of this moment written all over his face.

Emmett blinks in surprise, “You want to go now?”

Avery scoffs, “You think I chased you out here to go later? Yes I want to go now!”

Emmett’s heart leaps, and he’s too worked up to respond to Avery’s teasing. He fumbles into his pocket, pulling out the same teleport that he had earlier. Just like before, Avery stares down at it, and this time it seems to have much more meaning.

Emmett meets Avery’s eyes once more, raising his eyebrows. Avery hesitates, looking between Emmett and the object. Then, he gives Emmett a tiny nod. 

Emmett grins at him briefly, but then he focuses on the object. He tightly grips Avery’s hand left hand with his right, and Emmett’s left hand is face up with the object directly in the middle of his palm. Avery watches his eyes close, and with a jolt, he feels something that he’s never felt before. It’s like a fire flowing through him, filling every cell of his body. He gasps, staring at Emmett’s face. And then, as the teleport begins to glow, his eyes are on it. The bright white spreads, quickly, seeming to swallow both of them up.

For just one second, it’s all too much again. The fire ripping inside of him. The light that’s not only shining from the object, but from himself as well. He feels himself start to vibrate, and he squeezes his eyes shut, gasping for air that somehow seems far away. In this one second, he crushes himself against Emmett, feeling the sense that if he doesn’t, he’ll fall away from him and get lost in this trembling light.

The one second passes, and everything stops. He’s no longer standing in the darkened street of New York. 

  
  



	6. New Perspective

For the first few seconds, Sam's head refuses to connect the dots. As he stares at his open apartment door, his face is completely blank. He feels his heart beating too fast in his chest, and in the corner of his eyes, he can see Michael staring at him expectantly. Sam can't bring himself to focus on anything other then the empty doorway. There's something very wrong with this picture.

Emmett had left not 10 minutes ago. He was obviously mad, but so was everyone else. Sam's eyebrows furrow as he retraces the steps that Emmett took, trying to puzzle out why fear is coursing through his veins. His mind is fighting against him, not wanting him to figure it out. He pushes on, suddenly urgent. 

No, it wasn't when Emmett left. That was expected; something Sam had wanted. Avery had followed him. Michael was questioning him, and instead of answering, he apologized and ran out of the room. The look on his face… 

When Sam finally puts the pieces together, it hits him like a blow to the gut. His eyes widen, and a choking noise leaves his throat. His senses seem to flow back to him in a rush, and he can feel Michael clutching his arm. He turns to meet Michael's gaze, realizing that he's speaking. 

"Sam, what's going on? What's wrong with you?" he asks, shaking Sam a little to get his attention.  

Sam can't bring himself to answer. His mouth opens uselessly as his eyes find the door again. _They're leaving together. Emmett's going to take Avery to Hiraeth._

"No," Sam whispers, starting towards the door, but Michael's grip tightens. 

"Hey, where are you going? Tell me what's going on!" Michael demands, moving into Sam's eye line. 

"There's no time!' Sam shouts back, pulling away from Michael and running into the hallway. 

In a blur, he races down the hall, throwing the stairwell door open and starting down. He hears Michael running after him, still shouting, but he's too panicky to really notice. As soon as he makes it downstairs, he flies through the lobby, pushing open the front doors of the apartment building and running into the frosty air. He skids to a halt, his head spinning from side to side. His breathing is heavy, and his heart hammers in his chest, but he ignores it as he starts down the sidewalk at a quick pace. 

"Sam, wait!" Michael calls, and Sam can hear the nerves building in his tone. 

Just as Sam is turning around to face Michael, a blinding, white light explodes from somewhere down the street. He gasps wildly, staggering backwards. Michael's scream pierces the night as the light flashes for a few seconds, and then just as quickly as it came, it disappears. 

In the silence that follows, Sam doesn't feel a single thing. For a moment, as it registers that he's too late; that Emmett and Avery are gone, he seems to go numb. Then, all at once, the agony rips through him. 

The scream of anger slips from his mouth without his permission, and his hands grip in his hair, tugging harshly. He squeezes his eyes shut, begging for this to not be happening. But, it's too late. Emmett is gone. Avery is gone. Now, Sam has to do exactly what he promised himself he would never do. He has to tell Michael. He has to tell him about magic and other worlds and queens and kings. Worst of all, he has to admit to his own past. He has to face the moments of his life he never wanted to have to face. Now, it all zips through his brain, making him dizzy. 

"Damn it!" He shouts into the darkness, letting his hands drop to his sides. 

He finally fully turns around to face Michael. His throat tightens when he sees him standing there, completely frozen, his eyes wide on Sam. Both of Michael's arms are curled around himself, his breathing coming out erratically. 

"What-" Michael starts, and he has to swallow before continuing, "What just happened?" His voice is much quieter now; subdued by his anxiety.

Sam stares back at him in defeat, struggling to think of anything good to say. When he sees the pain in Michael's expression, he can't take it anymore. He can't spin anymore lies, and there's no more delaying the truth. 

"Avery's gone," Sam says, and it takes him by surprise how numb he sounds. 

These words seem to break through Michael's anxiety, and his arms move from their stiff position. He takes a step forward, finding Sam's eyes and forcing them to meet with his own. 

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Michael asks, and the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

"Emmett took him. They're gone. It's over," Sam mutters, more to himself than to Michael. 

Saying the words out loud makes everything so much worse. Sam's legs suddenly feel weak, and he has to really fight to not sink to his knees. 

Michael marches forward, gripping the tops of Sam's arms. The wildness in his eyes makes Sam flinch, "Then we have to go after them! What are we doing just standing here? Avery's in trouble!" his voice grows as he speaks.

Sam shakes his head, "No, Michael, it's... there's something... there's a lot you don't know."

"Then tell me! Now, Sam! My brother just fucked off and disappeared with a stranger! Tell me what's going on!" 

Sam searches Michael's expression, then he turns to face the darkened street again. Desperately, he tries to find the person he knows won't be there. He begs for Avery to reappear; to come back and make everything okay again. Of course, that doesn't happen. 

He turns back to Michael, facing the desperate, determined eyes. Sam takes a shuddering breath, closing his eyes to savor the last few seconds of Michael being completely safe. Completely unaware of Hiraeth, and the hardships that come along with it. Then, he opens his eyes, prepared for the wave of darkness that will surely wash over him, as he begins to speak the truth.

* * *

 

Avery lands hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He gasps, trying to move his muscles, but he can't remember how. He searches for his limbs to no avail, and when he tries to speak, he realizes he can't feel his lips either. He breathes wildly for a few seconds, trying to scream. Then, with a jolt, he finds himself. His mind suddenly reconnects with his body, and the pain of landing registers in his head. He peels his eyes open, but almost immediately shuts them again. He grimaces, throwing his hands over his face. Too bright. 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Emmett's voice breaks through Avery's muddled mind, and he feels familiar hands on his arms. 

Then, everything that occurred in the last few hours falls back into his head, and he gasps. He drops his hands, his eyes opening in shock instinctively, but again, they instantly squeeze shut. He groans, lifting himself into a sitting position. He feels Emmett in front of him, and this calms the storm of panic growing in his mind. 

"I'm sorry," Emmett murmurs, "I didn't know how rough that would be. I've never traveled with anyone else before. Are you okay?" 

A feeling of elation bubbles in Avery's stomach, and his breath comes out unevenly. _It worked. It's true._ With a breathy laugh, he realizes he's sitting in Hiraeth. He drops his hands to the ground, feeling soft grass under him. Something about it seems different then normal grass, but that might just be Avery's excitement. 

"Avery?" Emmett says, and Avery can hear the growing worry in his tone. 

"I'm okay," Avery laughs a little; he's much more than okay, "I just... I can't open my eyes." 

Emmett takes a deep breath, relieved, "Yeah, Hiraeth has that effect on people. Give it a second, your eyes will adjust. Try to open them again." 

Avery tries to peel his eyes open, but they resist. He huffs in irritation, fighting against his eyelids. Finally, they open the tiniest bit and stay open. Emmett is sitting in front of him, an amused smile playing at his lips. Behind that, though, is the same delight that fills Avery. His eyes are sparkling with excitement, although still concerned.

Avery grins at him, his eyes fully opening. Then, he catches sight of his environment. His eyes widen in shock, and he can't help the small squeak that comes from his mouth. 

He's sitting on a hill, not unlike his own hill back home. The trees that surround the small plain are tall, hovering over Avery like a god might. The bark is a variety of browns, and the swirling patterns jump out in odd ways. The branches, instead of being stiff and full of sharp angles, seem to curve upwards delicately. The leaves are a shocking, shimmering green. They seem to float gracefully atop the branches, swaying ever so slightly in the light breeze.  

Avery turns his gaze downward, taking in the lush meadow he's sitting on. Instead of jabbing into his hands, the grass is soft. It's darker than the leaves above him, but in the sunlight shines in just the same way. At the base of the trees, unfamiliar flowers jut out of the dirt, coloring the scene in the most beautiful way. Reds, pinks, blues. Each shade is different; and each flower is one Avery has never seen before. Even the white flowers stand out, and Avery notices that some of the stems are curlers than others.  

The brightness is overwhelming. Everything is saturated in color, and it takes Avery's breath away. He doesn't know what to focus on, and his chest tightens in a strange way.

"What's wrong?" Emmett whispers, and Avery focuses back on him. Avery raises an eyebrow in confusion. 

  One of Emmett's hands reaches towards Avery's face, and he brushes away a tear that rests on Avery's cheek. Avery's eyebrows furrow, and he reaches his hands to his face in bewilderment. He feels the moisture in his eyes, and he meets Emmett's eyes sheepishly. 

"This is too much, isn't it? We can leave," Emmett says, his elation falling away from his face. 

Avery's eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly, "No, no! I just..." and as he looks back at the beautiful meadow, he realizes what happened, "It's like I can feel my brother here," he whispers, and his voice is thick with emotion. 

It's true; This is exactly the kind of place that Avery has always pictured Dan in. He can practically feel his brother sitting next to him, laughing and pointing out clouds. Avery swallows, meeting Emmett's gaze again.

Emmett smiles sadly, looking around at the scene as well, "This is where he's from. I'm not surprised he fell in love with your meadow in New York." 

Avery sighs, shaking his head, "I wish... I wish I had known."

Emmett looks at him with a raised eyebrow, "I thought you liked your life in New York." 

Avery doesn't answer. He looks around him with a soft smile, trying to memorize everything around him. 

"Do you want to see more?" Emmett asks after a few seconds, the excitement written all over his face. 

Avery blushes a little, realizing that this is only a small part of this world. Just one little meadow in a place full of magic and royalty. Again, Avery is overwhelmed. He takes a slow breath, staring at Emmett with wide, panicked eyes. 

Hesitantly, Emmett holds his hand out to Avery. It seems silly when they're still sitting down, but it feels like a hefty decision to make. This is Emmett giving Avery a choice. If he takes Emmett's hand now, he's telling him to show him everything Hiraeth to offer. Maybe Emmett doesn't see it like that, but Avery can't help it. Seconds pass, and Avery shakes his head at himself. He grins, taking Emmett's hand without another thought. 

Emmett smiles brightly, and they both pull themselves off of the ground. Still holding Avery's hand, Emmett walks forward to the edge of the hill. There, a dirt pathway runs down the hill and curves towards an opening. Before he continues forward, again his eyes find Avery. he watches as Avery's eyes follow the path down, and widen when they fall on the first glimpse of the town below. Avery makes a noise of astonishment, unable to tear his eyes away. 

Emmett grins at Avery's expression, almost unwilling to look away from it. Then, he looks down at the town as well. He knows what Avery is seeing, and exactly why it has brought on this expression. The town itself is rather ordinary; it has the same look an old village might have. That's where the normalcy ends, though. Anybody could see the magic in the air here. The glow of the people here is unmistakable. Even from a distance, he colors radiate off of them. Not only that, but flashes of magic explode from different areas of the town. Teenagers stupidly playing with fire magic, probably. Or, water sorcerers throwing droplets into the air just for the fun of it. A mature fire sorcerer dabbling with sunlight. All of these things are a normal occurrence in Hiraeth, so it doesn't surprise Emmett. Avery, however, might be thinking he's dreaming. 

"Woah," Avery breathes, his eyes finding the floor, overwhelmed. 

Emmett nudges his shoulder with his own, "The brighter place, remember?"

Avery chuckles a little, meeting his gaze with a small. Although small, the smile is completely genuine, and the thrill on his face is unmistakable. 

"Come on," Emmett urges, taking his first steps down the path. 

Avery takes a deep breath, taking another look at the town before following. 

It doesn't take long for them to reach the bottom of the hill. After a few seconds, Avery got tired of Emmett's pace and started leading. Avery takes in everything as he walks; the changing colors of grass, the swaying flowers, the occasional small bodies of water. He even takes a moment to study the forest on the other side of them. He might be wrong, but he thinks he sees the deeper trees emitting a soft glow. When they reach the edge of the town, he practically skids to a stop, gripping tightly to Emmett's hand, that's still in his, as he takes in the sight before him.  

The people moving about the town immediately remind Avery a Disney movie They smile and chat with other, buying goods from markets and quickly moving on. Most of them seem to be with their families; everyone seeming in good spirits. If this were all there was, Avery wouldn't hesitate to move forward and begin touring the quaint village. But of course, he can see the magic everywhere now. A baker in front of his shop, small flames coming from his fingertips as he warms the bread on a tray. In the center of the wide street, there's what at first seems to be a fountain. Then, Avery realizes there are people with water shooting of their palms. One kid keeps forming small balls of water, and throwing it at his brother. In the open window of a house, a woman is staring down at potted plants, and Avery watches as the stems grow at her command. Magic flows through these people like it's second nature. 

"Emmett," Avery says in wonderment, tempted to pinch himself to make sure he's awake. The only thing that makes him feel grounded is Emmett's hand still clasped in his own, "This place is... incredible." 

Emmett studies Avery's expression, a feeling of warmth spreading through him as he takes in the joy on his face, "I'm glad you like it." 

Avery can't help but laugh, turning to Emmett with wide eyes, "Like it? This is unreal. It's amazing."

"Let me show you around," Emmett says, starting forward. 

They move to the right side of the street, and they move onto the sidewalk. Avery can't help but smile down at it, seeing the odd flowers peeking through the cracks.  

"I guess it's not much," Emmett shrugs, looking around at the town, "It's a small town, and the customs are pretty old fashioned." 

Avery scoffs, feeling a jolt of giddiness when a stranger sends him a brief smile, "Not much? There's magic everywhere. How can that be... not much?" 

Emmett chuckles, "Magic is just a part of this place. It surrounds everything. Hiraeth was created from magic. I guess I'm just used to it." 

"I don't think I could ever get used to this," Avery mumbles, watching a man playing with a baby by floating him in the air. 

Emmett grins hugely, feeling exultant. This is what he had wanted; for Avery to be in Hiraeth and feel the joy that comes with it. Instead of watching the town as they walk, he watches Avery's face, seeing the different ways he reacts to different things. 

Emmett suddenly flushes, turning in the other direction. He feels his fingers still entwined with Avery's, and he realizes how they must look together. He realizes how he's been so happy just staring at Avery. He furrows his eyebrows, thinking back to his concern when they first arrived in Hiraeth. He had been so worried about Avery that he couldn't focus on anything else. And now, all he wants to do is watch Avery smile. _What is that? Why am I feeling like this?_ He subtly shakes his head at himself, a little bit miffed. How has he become so attached to one person in such a short amount of time? 

He glances down at the hand that's joined with Avery's, and he swallows as his hands travel back up to Avery's face. Avery doesn't seem to notice Emmett's sudden distraction as he's still taking in all of Hiraeth. _Does he feel the same way?_ Emmett can't help the question that burns through his mind. He tries to push it away, but now it's all he can think about. He stares into Avery's eyes, trying to find the answer as if it's written there. 

Interrupting Emmett's thoughts, a loud bark sounds from a few feet away. Emmett's head whips around to see a dog pull away from its owner and come running up to Avery all too quickly. Avery gasps as the dog bounds right up to him, jumping up on its hind legs and barking again. 

Avery drops Emmett's hand and staggers backwards, a squeal coming from him as the dog throws his head back to howl. As it does, small flickers of flame come from his mouth. The dog wags its tail excitedly, following Avery's movement. 

When Emmett laughs, Avery stares at him with wide eyes. Then, he looks back at the dog warily. 

"He's attracted to your magic," Emmett explains, leaning down to pat the dog's head. 

Avery looks at him in confusion, but before he can respond, a woman runs up to them and quickly picks up the dog's leash. 

"I'm sorry!" she says breathlessly, pulling the dog back to her side, "He's only a puppy. He gets excited around other fire sorcerers," she waves her hand dismissively. 

"Don't worry about it," Emmett says, but when Avery looks at him, he sees an unapproachable look on his face, like he's impatient for the woman to leave. 

Avery sends her a tight smile as she pulls the dog away, who's still trying to jump up to Avery again. Avery lets out a breath, turning towards Emmett again, "What was that?" 

"The dog?" Emmett raises an eyebrow. 

Avery rolls his eyes, "For starters. That dog was breathing fire!" 

"Yeah, some of them do that here," Emmett shrugs, unable to contain the smile at Avery's look of disbelief. 

"And, what do you mean he was attracted to my magic? I haven't even used it yet," Avery says, and his eyes find the dog again, clear curiosity in his expression. 

"He can sense it. It probably has something to do with you being a prince and all. Even though your magic is dormant, it's still very powerful," 

Avery sighs, looking down at his hands with furrowed eyebrows, "Magic is confusing. I'm still not sure I even have it." 

"Trust me, you have it. The dog knew, didn't he?" Emmett teases, and Avery meets his gaze again. Emmett begins to speak again, this time more seriously, "Dormant magic is interesting. You can't use it, or rather you don't know how, but it's always there. It's kind of like a shield, actually. When my magic was dormant, I could never be hurt by plants or stuff like that. Not that there's much opportunity to get hurt by plants, but I never got a thorn or anything. You've probably never gotten a burn before." 

Avery thinks back, trying to remember if this is true. He remembers Michael getting burnt from the stove plenty of times, and getting a sunburn whenever they went to the pool. Avery never had. He just thought he was the luckiest redhead in the world. 

"Weird," Avery breathes, looking at Emmett with a bewildered smile. 

"I bet Michael's really good at holding his breath under water," Emmett says with a crooked smile, raising an eyebrow. 

Avery blinks in surprise, "Actually, yeah he is. How did you know that?" 

Emmett scoffs teasingly, "Didn't I already tell you that Michael has water magic?" 

Avery laughs a little, "You've told me a lot of stuff, it's kind of hard to keep track of everything. So, Michael can't drown then?" 

"Nope," Emmett says, and Avery notices how his mouth twists in an odd way. 

Avery narrows his eyes, "Okay, what's your problem with Michael?"

Emmett's eyes widen innocently, "I don't have a problem with Michael." 

"Really?" Avery raises an eyebrow at him, "Cause you look at him like you just looked at that woman."

Emmett sighs, brushing his fingers through his hair, "I don't really like anyone. Michael falls into that category. He hates me anyway, so why does it matter?" 

Instead of answering, Avery just looks at him with squinted eyes, considering his words. He tries to think of how Emmett could possibly not like anyone. There are too many good people in the world for that to be true. Then, his eyes fall to the ground as the thought hits him, _he likes me._  Emmett had spent the last few days with Avery, and Avery hadn't seen the unapproachable expression until he saw Emmett with Sam. Not even when Avery had been yelling at him. Emmett has to like him, right? 

Seeing the small smile forming on Avery's face, Emmett furrows his eyebrows. He waits for Avery to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, Avery meets his gaze again, grinning before spinning on his heel and starting down the sidewalk again. 

"What?" Emmett asks in confusion, trailing behind him. 

"Nothing. Don't you have a town to show me?" Avery looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Emmett. 

Just like before, as they walk, Avery tries to memorize every detail. From the shapes of the houses, to the faces of people and what kind of magic they're using. He watches as the brightness jumps off of everything, even the sidewalk they're walking on. 

It’s then, as Avery is admiring the pearly glow of the cement beneath him, that a different glint catches in his eye. He glances up, not knowing what to expect. He knows that, just like everything else, it will be spectacular and take his breath away. When his eyes find the source of the strange light, though, Avery stops breathing all together. 

A few yards in front of where Avery and Emmett are now standing, the pavement comes to an abrupt end. Not just the sidewalk, but the entire ground. It bends downward, forming a steep cliff. Instead of more land beneath them, all Avery can see is faint colors of sky. In the center of the strange, bottomless hole, a huge silver castle towers before them. 

Avery's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open, trying to find anything to say. He tries to think back, wondering why he hadn't noticed the gigantic, gleaming palace before it was suddenly in his sight. His eyes fall to the bottom of the structure, seeing how it sits atop a small island. Except, instead of water, the only thing under it is open air. Avery's eyes slowly move upward, trying to gage every detail. From the glittering, metallic base, to the tall towers far above his head. He sees strange, pinkish clouds surrounding the top of the castle, swirling in odd patterns. Somewhere in his mind, it registers that there's no logical way to reach the palace, but he's too distracted to focus on that part. 

"Welcome to the Hiraeth Palace," Emmett announces, bringing Avery's attention back to ground level. 

Avery turns toward him, his expression unchanged, and his lips still unable to form coherent words. 

Emmett laughs, placing a hand on Avery's shoulder and giving it a shake, "Breathe, Ave." 

Avery does, and he blinks a couple of times, trying to gain control over his frozen muscles again. He clears his throat, "How- I mean, where-?" 

"Where did it come from?" Emmett asks, still amused. Avery just nods, his eyes finding the castle again, "You can't see it until you're close enough. Way back when it was for safety purposes, and now it's just something they never got rid of." 

"Uh huh," Avery mutters, still frazzled. 

"That's where you're supposed to go," Emmett says more quietly than before, eyeing Avery carefully. 

Avery swallows hard, struggling to take his eyes off of the palace to meet Emmett's gaze. His eyebrow quirks, "You mean, that's where you're supposed to take me?" 

Emmett's lips form a line, "You have free will, Avery."

Avery smiles a little, showing Emmett that he isn't too serious, "It's... very intimidating," he says, gesturing towards the castle. 

Emmett hesitates, his hand falling from Avery's shoulder, "You don't have to do anything. I can take you home." 

"No!" Avery says instantly his expression turning desperate, "I don't want to leave. I just... I don't know if I can face _that_ yet." 

Emmett nods in understanding, repressing a sigh relief that Avery is adamant on staying. For a few seconds, they stand in silence. Avery stares at the view, and Emmett keeps his eyes on Avery. Then, a thought occurs to Emmett, "You were born there, you know." 

Avery turns to face him, his eyebrows lifted, "Seriously?" 

"Yeah. The royalties have this sense; they know who will come after them even before the princes and princesses are born. They moved your family there so you could be raised in the palace," Emmett explains, and there's something in his eyes that Avery can't read. 

"Why?" Avery can't help but ask. Emmett raises an eyebrow in question, so Avery continues, "I mean, why did I have to grow up in the palace? I'd be a prince anywhere, right? Why did my family have to move?" as he says the words, he feels very detached from them. It's as if he's speaking about a different person; someone he doesn't even know. In a way, he is. 

Emmett opens his mouth, but closes it again. He considers, scanning Avery's face, but then he just shrugs, "It doesn't matter much now, does it?" 

Avery wants to object to that, but he can't find a good argument to the contrary. He sighs, glancing up once more before his eyes find the ground, "I guess not." Then, Avery looks back up at Emmett, curiosity clear in his eyes, "What's it like in there? How do you even get in?" 

Emmett chuckles humorlessly, "I wouldn't know. I've never been inside." 

Avery sees the hard edge in Emmett's eyes, "Why not?" 

"Only royalties and guards are allowed in the palace. Sometimes there are rare exceptions, but I've never been one of them." 

Avery scans Emmett's face, seeing the hurt in his eyes as he says this. He wants to find something to say, to understand Emmett's expression, but Emmett starts again. 

"I've always wanted to be part of the guard. I'd be good at it. I've taught myself almost everything there is to know about magic. Every since I got here, I've wanted to work for the royalties. It's this huge honor. But, I've never gotten a chance to speak with the kings and queens," as he speaks, his bitterness is clear. 

Avery blinks in surprise; it's strange hearing Emmett say something so negative about Hiraeth. Not that Avery doesn't understand Emmett's frustration. 

Avery looks down at his feet, biting his lip. If Avery were brave enough to go inside the palace right now, there's no doubt he could do it. He'd just have to talk to the right person. It would be so easy. All Emmett wants to do is get inside, and he can't. He looks back up at Emmett, feeling guilty. 

Unexpectedly, Emmett takes a deep breath, forcing his lips into a smile as he turns away from the castle and meets Avery's eyes, "So, shall we move on, then?" 

Avery's chest tightens; he doesn't want Emmett to have to push this aside, but what else can they do? He allows the moment to pass, "What else is there to see?" 

"My place," Emmett says matter-of-factly, putting his arm around Avery's shoulder and turning them away from the dazzling sight of the palace. 

Avery raises an eyebrow, "You have a place?" 

"Yes Avery, I live here," Emmett says, shaking his head in amusement at Avery's surprised face. 

Avery scoffs, but then smiles as they start walking in the other direction that they came, "I can't even imagine living here." 

Emmett smiles back at him, but he looks away as he says, "Well, you're here now." Avery blinks, trying to understand the tone in Emmett's voice as he says this. After a second, he simply says, "Yeah, I am."

* * *

 

Sam had talked all night without interruption. There was so much to say, and even as the first rays of sunlight start to stream through his apartment windows, he didn't feel like he was finished. Michael sat in front of him, completely silent; completely frozen. He didn't ask questions, and his face never gave away what he was thinking. Sam continued anyway, not knowing if he really wants Michael to believe him anyway. 

Just as the sun starts to become visible, Sam's explanation comes to a stop, and the room becomes completely silent. Michael's eyebrows lift, waiting for more, and when none comes, his eyes fall to the floor. Sam swallows a lump in his throat, emotions battling in his brain. On one hand, he's glad that Michael finally seems responsive. On the other, now he has to deal with Michael's reaction. 

For a long time, Michael doesn't say anything. He sits in the same, still position on the couch, his hands resting in his lap. His face shifts from worried, to angry, to completely amazed, to many other expressions; some of which Sam has no name for. Once or twice, Michael opens his mouth to speak, each time sending a jolt through Sam like a lightning strike, but then his mouth falls shut. Sam listens to the clock ticking on his wall, and if he wasn't so tense, he might laugh at the comedic value the ticking adds too the silence.  

Finally, Michael clears his throat. Once, twice. Then, he locks meets Sam's gaze with narrowed eyes, "So, there's a magical alternate dimension." 

Sam bites the inside of his cheek as he takes in Michael's strange, calm tone. It's the kind of voice someone might have before completely breaking down. Then he whispers a quick, "Yes."

"And I was born there,"

"Yes,"

"And so were you, and Avery, and Dan,"

"Yes,"

"And Avery's there now,"

"Mhm,"

"With a psychopath."

"Well, I don't think he's a-"  

Michael's cuts him off, "You do realize how completely insane this all sounds, right?" 

Michael stares at him with wide, incredulous eyes, his voice getting more panicky the more he speaks. 

"Yeah, I do," Sam murmurs, watching as Michael's breathing starts picking up speed. 

Sam rushes forward, sitting on his knees in front of Michael, fear exploding through him. 

Michael's eyes close, and he covers his face with his hands, and Sam worries that he's starting to hyperventilate. 

"Mike, I'm sorry," Sam whispers desperately, reaching out to Michael, but then faltering. 

He stares at Michael, trying to think of anything he can say. He bites his lip, his own heart thudding his chest when he sees Micheal's hands starting to shake. Hesitantly, Sam reaches out, resting his palm lightly on Michael wrist. He shuts his eyes, taking a breath, before letting a whisp of calming magic float from his own body. He waits, and he knows exactly when Michael feels it. 

Michael gasps a little, his hands falling away from his face as he locks eyes with Sam. Sam watches Michael carefully, continuing to use his magic until Michael's breathing has returned to normal. 

"Wh- what are you doing?" Michael asks, and Sam is glad to hear that Michael's voice isn't shaky at all. 

Sam pulls his hand away, his mouth suddenly very dry as he tries to find a way to explain. After a few seconds, he mumbles, "Magic." 

Michael searches his expression, and then his eyes fall to Sam's palm. He reaches forward, taking Sam's hand in his own to get a better look. Sam nearly jumps at the contact, because he hadn't expected Michael to still be sitting here, let alone touching Sam in any way. 

"That felt..." Michael trails off, unsure of how to finish the statement. He just shakes his head, staring at Sam's hand in bewilderment.

"It seemed to work," Sam says after a moment, trying to not focus so hard on how close they are right now.  

Michael meets his eyes, gently letting go of Sam's hand and furrowing his eyebrows. He murmurs in agreement, but the conflicting emotions on his face doesn't subside. 

Sam waits, but then his nerves build up again and he can't stand the silence anymore, "So, you believe me then?"  

Michael quirks an eyebrow, "I never said I didn't." 

"You never said you did." 

Michael scoffs a little, looking up at the ceiling. He considers his words carefully, then sighs as he looks back down at Sam, "It's not exactly easy to believe." 

Sam squints, trying to understand the look on Michael's face, "So, you don't believe me?" 

"I didn't say that," Michael says again, brushing his fingers through his hair in irritation. 

Sam stares at him, not knowing how to respond. Michael looks away from his intense gaze, shaking his head at the couch, "Sam, I know you. I know you wouldn't... I know you're not lying to me. Especially when Avery is involved. This is just... a lot to process. But, I don't know how I'm supposed to not believe it when you just used magic," he starts to ramble, less explaining to Sam then to himself. Then, after a few seconds of mumbling, Michael's eyes widen and it's clear that his anxiety is bubbling to the surface again, "Speaking of Avery; Sam, how the hell do we get to him?" 

Sam looks down at the couch, not knowing exactly how to answer, "I- um," 

Michael interrupts again, "It should be easy, right? I mean, you know how to get to this place. We just have to grab him and go." 

"Michael-" Sam tries again. 

"We should go right now," Michael stares ahead of Sam, his mind obviously somewhere else and determination settling on his face, "We have no idea what's happening to him. He could be in serious trouble. Do you know why Emmett wanted to bring him in the first place?" 

"Michael!" Sam says louder, forcing Michael to focus on him again. Sam shuts his eyes, his jaw tight, "We can't just go to Hiraeth." 

Michael waits for more, but none comes, "Why not? I have to get to Avery, Sam." 

Sam opens his eyes, a thousand emotions racing through his head, "Yes, I know, but it's not that simple." 

Michael's jaw sets, and he shakes his head, "Emmett got there in two seconds! He just disappeared. We can do that too, right?" 

Sam hesitates, agonizing over the growing look of fear on Michael's face, "No, we can't." 

"Why?" Michael asks again desperately searching Sam's face. 

Sam takes a breath, looking down at the couch. He's unable to meet Michael's gaze as he whispers, "I was banished, Michael."

For a second, Michael doesn't say anything. Slowly, Sam looks back up at him, and he sees that Michael's face is unreadable. 

"You said... you left." 

"Well, I did leave. Because I was forced out. Hiraeth- it's not good, okay? Why do you think I didn't want you to know about it?" Sam says, hoping Michael can see how completely honest he's being. 

"Why were you banished?" Michael asks, instead of responding to Sam's question. 

"Because the royalties were scared of me. They didn't like that I care about more than just fulfilling my duties," Sam replies, a hint of bitterness in his tone, "They got rid of me and replaced me with someone else. They don't care about people, Mike. All they care about is Hiraeth." 

Michael searches his eyes, knowing that there has to be more to this story. More than that though, a new wave of panic washes through him, causing his mouth to go dry, "Avery is there. We have to get him. He- he-" he tries to go on, but his voice starts to shake again. 

Sam reaches forward, taking both of Michael's hands in his own without stopping to consider, "I know, Michael. Believe me, I know." 

"What are we going to do?" Michael asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Sam shakes his head, "I don't know. We'll think of something, I promise. There are lots of ways to get into Hiraeth." 

"Then let's find one!" Michael says with resolve. 

Sam backtracks, dazed by Michael's shifting moods, "Most of them aren't safe. You could get yourself killed." 

"I don't care, Sam!" Michael barks, releasing Sam's hands and glaring down sharply. 

"I care!" Sam shouts back, returning Michael's glare with equal measure, "We're going to do this, but we're going to do this my way. You don't know what you're getting yourself into." 

Michael stares at Sam, unrelenting. Then, he takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands. He shakes his head to himself, his jaw tightening. Then, he lifts his eyes to Sam's and says with conviction, "I'll do whatever I have to do." 

  



	7. Dancing Stars

"So, I have a question," Avery peers up at Emmett, a skip in his step as they walk down the dirt road.

Instead of taking the same route back towards Emmett's house, Emmett decided that Avery should get to see the long way. Here,there are trees aligning one side of them, and a meadow dotted with flowers on the other. Much to Emmett's amusement, Avery has been stopping every few seconds to catch a glimpse of something Hiraeth has to offer. 

"What's that?" Emmett asks, meeting Avery's curious gaze with a raised eyebrow. 

"Why is the sun still up? It was pitch black out when we left New York. Not to mention, it was much colder there," Avery muses, his face tilting towards the warm sun looming above them.

Emmett snorts, "We travel to a different dimension, and you think it's going to be the same time zone as New York?"

Avery turns, walking backwards to face Emmett as they talk, "You said it was like a parallel universe." 

Emmett rolls his eyes, "I said it was  _ sort of _ like a parallel universe. It's- it's complicated." 

Avery shrugs, spinning on his heel to walk normally again. He moves next to Emmett, and their shoulders brush against each other. Emmett looks down at Avery, but something in the meadow has caught his eye, and he doesn't seem to notice the contact. Emmett sighs quietly, smiling to himself.

Soon enough, they come across a curve in the dirt road. It leads back to a neighborhood, and when the houses come into view, Avery follows Emmett's gaze to a small cottage nestled further into the trees then the others. 

"Wow," Avery murmurs as they stop in front of the small house, "This is... definitely not what I pictured." 

The first word that comes to Avery's mind is quaint. It looks like the kind of cottage you would find in a fairytale. The brick work looks rundown, but still stable. The roof has vines coming down from it, curling around the edges of the entire house. In front of the small windows, there are small flower beds attached to the house, spilling over with large, dazzling flowers. In front of the house, there's a pathway surrounded by colorful rocks. When Avery looks back at Emmett, he can't make the house make sense with his personality.

"What did you picture?" Emmett asks, raising an eyebrow with a small amused smile on his lips. 

Avery shrugs, "Well, I don't know. Not this." 

"Very descriptive," Emmett chuckles, walking forward and leaning against the front door not far from them. 

"I mean," Avery starts, trying to describe his thoughts without offending Emmett, "You don't seem like a cottage kind of guy. This is just... it's really nice."

Emmett squints his eyes, "You didn't picture me in a nice place?"

Avery laughs a little, taking a couple steps closer to the house, "I picture nice guys in nice places," he teases.

Emmett scoffs, feigning offense, "What? I'm nice." 

Avery raises an eyebrow, the smile growing on his face, "Yeah, to me. If you'll remember, everyone else was telling me to avoid you. And, you're the one who told me you don't like people."

Emmett laughs a little, looking down at his feet, "Yeah, yeah. Point taken. Anyway, the house was a gift from my uncle. It sort of grew on me." 

Avery nods, his mind preoccupied with a different thought. He walks up to Emmett, turning to lean against the wall next to him. Emmett meets his eyes with a raised eyebrow. 

"Why are you nice to me?" Avery wonders aloud, intently staring into Emmett's eyes.

Emmett blinks in surprise at the question, his face turning slightly pink. He scans Avery's face, trying to figure out where that question had come from. It's something that Emmett wanted to know the answer to as well, but he isn't ready to go searching his mind yet. Honestly, he's afraid of what the answer might be. 

He turns his eyes away, looking straight ahead and taking a discreet breath. Then, he turns to face the door, his hand finding the knob. Without looking at Avery he asks, "Do you want to come in or not?" 

Avery's eyes lift in surprise at Emmett's clear avoidance, and he thinks about pressing further, but he doesn't want to somehow anger Emmett and ruin this perfect day, so he decided to let it drop. He sighs, pushing off of the wall and facing the door as well.

As the door opens, Avery doesn't know what to expect. Based on the exterior of the cottage, he thought maybe the interior would be just as cheerful. As he follows Emmett inside, though, he gasps when he takes in the sight. 

In a way, he was right. The objects in the room do seem cheerful, but not in the way he thought they would be. Throughout the front room, there are shelves on every wall, all filled with strange, metallic objects that seem to have the same quality as the teleport. Scattered around in no particular pattern, potted plants adorn the space, all reaching towards the sun streaming through the windows. Although the windows are small, the amount of light that surrounds the room is astonishing; making each object shimmer. He notices mundane pieces of furniture as well, and it's clear that they're not from a matching set. Even this seems to match the cluttered, yet organized, area well.  

"Sorry," Emmett mumbles, and Avery notices that he's moved further into the living room awkwardly, "I know it's a mess." 

Avery shakes his head, a smile spreading across his face as he takes in the room, "No, don't apologize. This is... Is this all magic stuff?" 

Emmett follows Avery's gaze, scanning the different metallic pieces scattered throughout the room. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, "Yeah, pretty much. I like to collect magic tools. It's more complicated than normal nature magic, but it's pretty fascinating," he shrugs, meeting Avery's gaze with a small smile.

Avery grins walking towards one of the shelves. He lifts his hand, curious about a certain object, but then he looks over at Emmett, "Can I?"

Emmett follows him over, glancing at the same object before smiling at Avery, "Go ahead." 

Avery smiles briefly, then turns his attention back to the object. He gently touches it with one finger, again surprised at the soft metal. It's like nothing he's ever felt before, and he can't help but taking it in both hands to get a better look. The metal curves in strange ways, forming a shape that Avery can't describe. He follows the curves with his finger, feeling small indents on the sides. He squints his eyes, trying to see what the indents might be. 

"What is it?" Avery whispers, peering up at Emmett over the object in his hands. 

Emmett is looking at him with a fond smile, and when Avery suddenly looks up at him, he blushes, his eyes flitting away. He clears his throat, "Um, it's sort of whistle. I mean, not really. But only a certain animal can hear it, like a dog whistle. Except it's dependent on the sorcerer that uses it. If I used it, a horse from the forest could hear it. If you used it, one of those fire dogs from earlier would hear it," Emmett explains, reaching out to touch the tool.

Avery lifts his eyebrows, glancing back down at the object, "Why? I mean, why would a horse come for you and a dog for me?" 

"Horses here use earth magic, like me. Dogs use fire magic. There's a certain connection between sorcerers and the animals that use the same magic, and this draws on that connection," Emmett muses, and Avery can see the fascination in his eyes.

Still looking at Emmett, Avery sets the object back on the shelf. He takes a step forward, excitement building in his expression, "Show me some magic." 

Emmett's eyebrows lift, and he smiles softly, "Really?"

Avery grins, "Yes! I want to see it up close. I've been curious about it all day." 

Emmett returns the smile, and it's obvious that he's just as excited about this as Avery is. Avery thinks back, remembering the look in Emmett's eyes every time he talks about using magic. A part of him is giddy that he is able to make Emmett this happy so simply, but there's too much else to think about to focus on that. 

Emmett takes Avery's hand, leading him further into the living room. He sets him down on the couch, then turns around the find something on a different shelf. Avery watches him curiously, folding his legs on the couch and resting his hands in his lap as he waits. It only takes Emmett a few seconds to find what he's looking for, and then he quickly turns back around and takes a seat next to Avery. Avery looks down, notices the new item in Emmett's hand. This one, instead of the silver, is gold. Avery stares intently, taking in the strange shape. It has different layers, and Avery watches as Emmett thump slides into a groove on one end of it. He looks up, raising an eyebrow at Emmett in question. Emmett smiles a little impishly, obviously a little smug about what he's doing. Avery rolls his eyes, grinning as he looks back down at the object. 

Emmett takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes as his hand morphs to the shape of the object. Avery watches in fascination, not knowing whether to look at Emmett's focused expression, or down at the object. Slowly, a soft glow begins to emanate from the base of the object, and small particles form on top of it. The particles move upward, swirling around in the air as they multiply and shift. The color of the strange shape morphs from black, to purple, to red. Then, the parties move into two sections, slowly changing into a red and green cloud. Avery watches in astonishment and the particles push together, slowly morphing into a more tangible shape. The sections become one again, and the particles pack tightly together until it's one whole shape. A clear rose is visible now, floating on top of the object and moving in a small circle. Avery leans forward, his eyes wide. His hand lifts, his fingers wanting to move forward and touch the flower, but he doesn't get the chance. Suddenly, the rose turns to dust, and floats down to the object once again, it's color going back to black, and then disappearing all together. Avery continues to stare, unable to look away from the still glowing object. 

Emmett laughs quietly, but it's enough to break Avery from the spell. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and slowly moves his gaze up to meet Emmett's eyes.

"What was that?" Avery whispers in wonderment. 

Emmett grins, completely serene as he leans back against the couch, "It's just an identification tool. Looked impressive though, didn't it?" he laughs again, happier than Avery has ever seen him. 

"Identification tool?" Avery asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

Emmett nods, "Yep. Again, it changes depending on which sorcerer is using it. I control the earth element, so it showed a flower." 

"Oh," Avery muses, smiling in amazement, "Yes, it did look very impressive. I don't think it's not impressive. But, I've also never seen magic before, so," he trails off with a shrug, trying to make a joke, but he's still too much in awe. 

"Do you want to try?" Emmett suddenly asks, surprising Avery with the energy in his words. 

Avery looks up at him with wide eyes, "What?" 

Emmett grins, "Do you want to try to use your magic?" 

Avery leans back, looking down at his hands, "Oh, no, I- I don't think that's..." he trails off, biting his lip.

Emmett's eyebrows furrow, "What?" Emmett urges Avery to continue. 

Avery sighs, meeting Emmett's eyes with a sheepish look in his eyes, "I don't feel like I even have magic. What if it doesn't work?" 

Emmett's eyebrows lift, and then he scoffs lightly, "Avery, the moment I saw you, I knew you had magic. That's how I knew who you were. It radiates off of you. The only reason you don't feel it is because you don't know what it feels like," Emmett explains, the eagerness building in his eyes again. 

Avery searches his face, butterflies suddenly swarming his stomach. He looks back down at his hands, following the lines of his palms. He tries to feel inside of himself, searching for the feeling that Emmett keeps talking about. He wants to believe it so bad; and why shouldn't he? Everything else is real. Hiraeth, magic, the royalties; everything. So, his own magic should be real, too.  

He looks back at Emmett, the excitement that Emmett feels mirrored in his eyes, "Okay, show me." 

Avery reaches out for the metal questioningly, and Emmett smiles brightly at him. He passes it over, turning it around so Avery thumb slides into the same groove Emmett's had. 

Avery looks down at it, a blush coating his face when he realizes he has no idea what to do. "Now what?" he asks, sheepishly meeting Emmett's eyes. 

"Close your eyes," Emmett says pat i ently, understanding Avery's struggle. Magic isn't always easy for newcomers, even if they happen to be a prince. 

Avery sighs, his eyes falling shut. He curves his hand around the object the same way as Emmett, waiting for more instructions. 

"The object does most of the work; it wants to connect with you. You just have to pull your magic forward," Emmett explains in a hushed tone. 

Avery opens one eye, "Mhm, and how do I do that?"  

"You have to focus. It's in you, you just have to find it. Trust me," Emmett says. 

Avery scans his face skeptically for a second, but then his eyes fall shut again. He settles into the couch, taking a deep breath as he begins to search his mind. The only thing he can think to do is search through his past memories, but that doesn't make sense because he's never done this before. He has no idea how to search for a whole other side of him. He tries to think about the object instead, thinking about how it feels in his hand. Just like everything else, it's soft. There are lots of different grooves, and it seems to fit his hand just like it had for Emmett. He tries to sense any sort of magic coming from it, hoping to connect that with a certain feeling inside of himself, but he doesn't find anything. He grimaces, opening his eyes in annoyance. 

"I don't know what I'm doing," Avery mumbles, embarrassment replacing his previous excitement. 

Emmett smiles in understanding, "Don't worry, you'll figure it out." 

Then, the look on Emmett's face changes, and he glances down at the object with furrowed eyebrows. His lips quirk in a half smile as he meets Avery's gaze again, "Here, let me help you."

Avery raises an eyebrow in confusion; isn't that what he's been trying to do? Then, Emmett's hand lifts and touches Avery's. He places it in the same position as Avery, scooting closer on the couch. Avery's face turns bright red, and his eyes fall down to their hands around the object. 

"Close your eyes," Emmett murmurs again, his own eyes falling shut.

Avery does, and when he again tries to focus on himself, their touching hands completely distracts him. He huffs discreetly, shaking those thoughts away from him. Then, a peculiar feeling touches his stomach. Almost like butterflies, but not quite. His lips part in surprise as he realizes it's the same feeling he had when Emmett began using the teleport. At the time, it had scared Avery. He had fought against it, and then immediately forgot about it when it was over. Now, he latches onto it, trying to decipher what it is. As he does this, it quickly spreads through him, filling his entire body. It completely heats him up, and it doesn't take long for him to realize it feels like fire. His mind pulls up on image of his own hand moving through flickering flames. It doesn't burn; it controls. He sinks further into the feeling, trying to get it to move the way he wants it to. He pushes from his stomach to his chest, then to his arms. It races to his palms, and he gasps when it moves to his fingertips. With astonishment, he realizes how easy it would be to push it away from himself; to put it into the world. He holds back, carefully keeping the flames inside of himself.

"Avery," he hears Emmett whisper, and Avery's eyebrows furrow. 

He had almost completely forgotten Emmett sitting right in front of him, and now when he opens his eyes, he sees Emmett staring downward. Avery does as well, and sees the same particles from before dancing on top of the object again. This time, it's in the shape of a candle flickering in a delicate wind. Avery stares in wonderment, registering that he feels the connection like a click in his palm. His own magic mixing with the metal to create this pattern.

Avery can't help but laugh as he stares. The feeling is so completely remarkable and so shocking, and so utterly normal. He now understands what Emmett had been talking about; the magic is part of him. It feels like something he used to know very well, and he's just now remembering. He gazes at the candle, using his other hand to touch the strange particles. Just like a real flame, it's intensely hot, but he doesn't pull away. He continues moving his fingers through it, the smile never leaving his face.

It's only when Emmett's hand falls away that the trance seems to wear off. Avery blinks, his hand falling away from the candle as his eyes glance up to Emmett. All at once, the flames inside of him move away from his palms and falls back to a deep corner of himself. He can feel it there now, and he realizes he's always felt it. It's always been a part of him, even if he didn't know what it was. He lets the magic drift away from the forefront of his thoughts, though, and focuses on Emmett. He has a strange look on his face; still pleased, but somehow strained. 

"What's wrong?" Avery asks gently, wondering if he had somehow done something to upset him. The smile threatens to fall off of his face.

Emmett lifts his eyebrows in surprise, "What? Oh, nothing. I just didn't want to get burned," he laughs a little, and Avery sees that the delight is still written in his expression. 

Avery blinks, "Really? Can that happen?" 

Emmett grins, "Yes, you can be pretty dangerous if you want to be." 

Avery laughs in surprise, looking down at his hands. He sees the metal object still in his palm, and he lets it fall gently onto the couch, "That was amazing, Emmett. What were you doing to help?" Avery remembers that Emmett must have been doing something to move the process along. 

Emmett just shrugs, "I was just feeling my own magic. I connected my magic with yours so that you could feel it inside of yourself, and then I pulled back and let you do the rest."

Avery's eyes widen, "You can do that?"

Emmett smiles, his hand moving over Avery's again, "All sorcerers are connected to each other the same way all nature is connected to other parts of nature."

He playfully presses his palm against Avery's, matching up their fingers so they're touching as well. He can still feel the warmth coming from Avery, and this time it's comforting instead of painful. He slightly shifts his hand, letting their fingers intertwine instead of rest against each other. A fond smile touches his lips, and he finds himself wanting to pull Avery closer. His eyes travel upwards slowly, finding Avery's face. He takes a moment to trace Avery's features with his eyes. He notes the soft angles of his jaw and cheekbones; the roundness of his entire face. He follows the pattern of the freckles that dot Avery's cheeks and nose. His eyes drift to Avery's lips, seeing how they're slightly parted, and very pink in the lights that surround them. 

Emmett blinks in surprise when he realizes what he's doing. He looks up, meeting Avery's wonder-filled gaze. His face flushes bright red, and he drops Avery's hand instantly, feeling like he's just popped some bubble between them neither of them realized was there. Avery is staring at him with curiosity in his eyes, mixed with something else that Emmett can't place. He can't look for too long though, because his eyes find the floor in embarrassment. His chest tightens, and he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. 

"Emmett?" Avery says questioningly. His voice is small, and Emmett doesn't miss the tension in it.

Emmett doesn't look back at him. Instead, his eyes find the small window facing his backyard. In his hunt to move past the strange feelings moving around his head, he tries to find anything to distract himself. It doesn't turn out to be that hard, because as he and Avery have been so preoccupied that the sun started to set. He grins, half because of relief, and half because there's something else that he has been wanting Avery to see. He turns back around, forcing himself to look Avery in the eye. He carefully touches Avery's arm, then gestures towards the window, "There's something I want to show you." 

Avery furrows his eyebrows, glancing at the window, and then back at Emmett curiously, "What is it?" he asks, his eyes full of the same wonder that Emmett will never get tired of. 

Almost unwillingly, Emmett stands up from the couch. He takes a few steps toward his back yard, then turns to look at Avery expectantly. Avery smiles bewilderedly, getting to his feet and following Emmett. Emmett leads the way, although it's probably not necessary in his small house. The back door isn't far from where they had been sitting, but he wants the opportunity to lead Avery to something incredible. 

He opens the door, walking out onto his deck and lifting his eyes up to the sky. The sun has been setting for quite a while, so they don't get the full sight of the sunset, but it doesn't matter. As soon as the gasp comes from Avery, Emmett knows that this view is just as spectacular. 

The colors in the sky are unimaginable. Up high, there are still touches of baby blue, mixing into a pastel purple. Thin wisps of blue leak into the purple, making it seem like a painting. Beneath the purple, the sky turns into a bright magenta. Different shades of red seem to take up half the sky, shifting and changing right before their eyes. Below that, instead of the blackness of a normal sky, a deep purple blends with the red, and half of a bright moon takes up a lot of the space. All of the colors move together, shimmering in some places, and dimming in others. It constantly moves, the dark purple taking up more of the sky every second. The moon is huge, and the craters are very visible.  

Without realizing it, Avery has stepped forward until he's at the edge of Emmett's deck, his mouth open and his eyes wide. Emmett's eyes move away from the sky, resting on Avery's shocked features. He smiles softly, watching Avery's eyes dart around, trying to see everything.

"Wow," Avery murmurs as if in a trance.

Emmett grins, "This isn't even it."

Avery's eyebrows lift, and he glances at Emmett once before his gaze is pulled back to the sky. 

Then, the first stars appear in the growing darkness. With a jolt, Avery realizes that this is a familiar scene. He is immediately taken back to his dreams from only a few nights ago. The strange, dancing stars floating through in unconscious mind. But, even those dreams couldn't prepare Avery for the real thing. As the sky slowly morphs into one solid color, the stars begin to shine brighter than anything else in Hiraeth. Anything else then he's ever seen. Just like in his dreams, the stars do not stay still like they do on Earth. They move across the sky in odd patterns. Each one seems to find a partner, dancing briefly before moving on to the next. They shift from orange to yellow to white over and over again until they are a completely different star. The shift from bright to dim, some disappearing altogether before shining brighter than any other star in view. 

Tears form in Avery's eyes as he watches, and he knows that nothing could steal his attention away from this beauty. He reaches his hand out, desperately wanting to close his fingers around one of the shimmering dots, claiming it for himself. Expectedly, he falls short, and lets his arm drop back to his side. 

"This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Avery whispers, too overwhelmed to think of a more accurate word to describe the sight above him. 

Emmett searches Avery’s face curiously, noticing that behind the amazement is something else; a sort of sadness that Emmett didn’t expect.

Avery continues before Emmett can question this, “I’ve seen a lot of night skies. Every night at home, the sky is a little bit different. That’s what…” he trails off for a moment, clearing his throat, “That’s what me and Dan did. We watched the sky change from our little hill,” he chuckles wistfully, “That hill; probably the only place you can actually see the sky in the city. And every night, we saw something new. We made up our own constellations,” 

Avery drifts into silence, his eyes still on the sky. Emmett sees the deep sorrow forming in Avery’s eyes, and all he wants to do is reach out to him. He hesitates, fighting through the emotions clouding his judgement, then he reaches forward to touch Avery’s shoulder. Avery doesn’t look away from the sky, but a smile touches his lips. When Avery speaks again, it’s in that far away tone that Emmett never really understands.  

“It’s always quiet when I go to the hill. Very still, and very quiet. With my brother, it was nice. Now, it would just be lonely. It would just be me with my own thoughts looking up at unmoving stars. No one but me to fill the silence. But this,” he flashes a small grin at the stars above him, “This wouldn’t be so bad. Everything is moving and shifting, and the colors… the colors are so beautiful. It’s silent, but it’s filled with noise. It’s like a city street up there. Even if I wasn’t with you, I don’t think I’d be lonely.”

Finally, Avery manages to pull his eyes away, meeting Emmett’s gaze. Emmett knows he’s been caught staring, but now he can’t bring himself to care. Especially not when the shifting colors of the night are glowing on Avery’s face so brilliantly. He swallows, trying to think of a way to respond to Avery’s deep words, “Hiraeth… can be very overwhelming. I mean, you saw what goes on everyday,” he starts, and a soft smile grows on Avery’s face as he listens, “You get used to it, really. But, at night, it’s so peaceful. It’s a lot easier to deal with then day time.” 

Avery lifts an eyebrow curiously, “It’s overwhelming to you? Being here?” 

“Sometimes,” Emmett admits, carefully watching Avery’s reaction. 

Avery’s head tilts in curiosity, “Do you ever go back home? To your family, I mean?” 

“No,” Emmett responds sharply, his voice a few notches louder than it had been just a second ago.  

Avery blinks in surprise, regretting the question instantly. He bites his lip, considering how he could change the subject. But, then something about Emmett’s expression makes him press forward. “Why not?” he whispers almost inaudibly.

Emmett eyes drift away from Avery, and he folds his arms across his chest. When he speaks, his tone is carefully composed in a way that Avery doesn’t like, “My parents didn’t want me around, and they made that explicitly clear. When I left, I was gone for good.” 

Avery’s chest tightens, feeling the sudden distance between them. The air around him feels 10 degrees cooler, and he sees the tightness in Emmett’s eyes. He wants Emmett to open up to him; to trust Avery as much as Avery trusts him. It’s not like he can ask for that, though. That wouldn’t be fair, especially with the troubling past like Emmett clearly has. 

Instead, he steps closer to Emmett, letting their arms brush together. He reaches his hand up, placing it against Emmett’s still folded arm, “I’m sorry, Emmett.” 

Emmett’s cold exterior melts under Avery’s touch, and without thinking he puts one of his hands over Avery’s. He looks down at him again with a timid smile, “It’s alright. I’m okay now.”

Avery carefully reads his expression. His mouth opens to speak, but then falls shut again. Emmett lifts an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for Avery to say something. Avery hesitates, then finally asks, “Are you happy?” 

Taken off guard, Emmet’s face is suddenly intensely vulnerable. He searches his mind for an answer, trying to find something simple to say. Obviously, the normal thing to say would be  _ yes.  _ That’s what anyone else would expect when they ask a question like this. It’s not the first time Emmett has had a conversation like this, but this is Avery. He’s not looking for a simple, quick answer.  

Emmett thinks about his time in Hiraeth, considering every moment. There have been plenty of times that the Hiraeth has brought him joy, but has it made him overall happy? He doesn’t know. He can’t be sure, because he’s never taken the time to really consider his emotions. It’s always been too painful. Instead of thinking about that, he takes the question in a different direction. He thinks about how he feels in this moment, Avery standing so close to him; their hands pressed together. He lets himself finally think about how he’s felt all day. The excitement of watching Avery discover Hiraeth, and the peacefulness of their quiet moments together. He thinks about the way Avery has been making him feel for the last week. In simple terms; Emmett has felt thrilled to be alive. For the first time in a long time, he’s not just going day to day doing the same things with an occasional happy twist. He’s genuinely thrilled to be around Avery and discover Hiraeth all over again with him at his side.  =

Emmett turns a little, letting his arms fall to his sides as he does so. Instead of pulling away from Avery’s touch, he allows their fingers to intertwine again. This time, he’s very aware of this action, and he doesn’t let his conflicting emotions ruin it. He uses his other hand to brush the hair away from Avery’s eyes, smiling a little. Then, he whispers, “Yes, I am happy.” 

Avery feels heat rising in his skin where Emmett is touching him, and his heart begins to pick up pace. As he carefully reads Emmett's face, trying to assess his change in attitude, Avery's stomach fills with butterflies. Emmett's hand pulls away from Avery's, and he lightly drags his fingers up Avery's arm. When he does this, goosebumps rise on Avery's arm, and he can't stop himself from moving slightly closer to Emmett, savoring the feeling. Emmett hand lifts to Avery's face, cupping his cheek. Avery leans into the touch, and he can't help it when his eyes glance down at Emmett's slightly parted lips. 

Avery's heart hammers away in his chest, and each second feels like an entire minute passing. He forgets everything else around him; the dancing stars, the bright moon, the magic that surrounds every part of Hiraeth. All he can feel is Emmett's hand on his cheek, and all he wants is the suddenly minuscule space between them to close, and it feels like he's about to get his wish. 

Then, a loud crashing noise somewhere in the backyard makes Avery yelp. He jumps back, his heart stopping altogether as his eyes snap to the direction of the dark space. Emmett curses under his breath, stepping forward to get a better look at the yard. Unexpectedly, he chuckles a little, obviously still irritated but not scared in any way like Avery is. Avery looks over at him in confusion, and he's about to ask what's so funny, when a shape makes its way onto the deck. 

Avery's wide eyes fall down, landing on a small rabbit hopping it's way to Emmett's shoe. 

"Damn it, you knocked over my trash can," Emmett says loudly to the small creature, gently kicking the animal away. 

Instead of retreating, the bunny stares up at him, nudging Emmett's shoe with his nose. Avery watches as the rabbit suddenly turns around, leaping into the air. Instead of falling back to the ground, he stays afloat. He continues leaping until he's turned back around and right in Emmett's face. Avery gapes, automatically taking a step forward as he takes in the sight of the flying bunny. 

Emmett sighs in mock annoyance at the creature, lifting his hand and stroking the top of it's head. Avery splutters, unable to make this entire situation make sense. Emmett looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, and then a small blush coats his face as his hand drops back to his side.  

"Avery," Emmett says, gesturing towards the rabbit with his head, "This is Teddy. She's a complete nuisance."

Emmett reaches up then, quickly grabbing the bunny with both of his hands and pulling her to his chest. She tries to squirm away, but he holds her there whilst trying to keep an amused smile off of his face. Avery laughs a little breathlessly, still half expecting some sort of danger coming from the unfamiliar darkness in front of him. He walks forward until he's directly in front of Emmett, looking down at Teddy. 

"Is she yours?" Avery asks, unable to stop himself from touching the bunny's soft ears. 

Teddy looks up at him curiously, turning in Emmett's arms to sniff at Avery's nearby hand. Emmett snorts, and Avery glances up at him.

"No, she's not mine. She just showed up and started annoying me whenever she pleased," he says, poking the rabbit in the side with his finger. 

As he shifts to do this, Teddy is able to get away from his grasp, and she launches herself back into the air. Avery watches in amazement as she hops over both of their heads, and then finds her way back to the ground through a graceful glide. Avery looks back at Emmett with a grin. Emmett has his eyes narrowed at the rabbit, but Avery can see the amusement written all over his face.

"Oh come on," Avery rolls his eyes, "How can she be annoying?" 

Emmett scoffs, meeting Avery's gaze with a raised eyebrow, "Trust me, she manages. Just because she's cute and fluffy doesn't mean she's wanted here," he says the last part loudly, as if he's talking to Teddy again. 

Avery hits Emmett's arm teasingly, shaking his head in amusement. As soon as he does, he remembers exactly what was about to happen not two minutes ago before Teddy had shown up and interrupted. He blushes furiously, his eyes falling to the floor.

Emmett opens his mouth to speak, but then snaps it shut. He looks up in frustration, wanting nothing more then to go back time before his stupid bunny ruined everything. In the moment, he had no doubt about what he wanted. It would've been so simple to lean down and brush his lips against Avery's, and he knew that Avery had wanted it as well. They were so close... And now the moment has passed, and his doubts come rushing back to his head. Of course, nothing can be that simple.  

* * *

 

Much to Sam's disapproval, Michael refused to get some sleep before they began their search for a way into Hiraeth. It took a lot of tedious conversation, but Michael finally agreed that it would be best if Sam took the lead on this. It wouldn't help anybody if he ended up dead during his attempt to use magic for the first time.

Sam already knew where he wanted to start; Emmett's apartment. Obviously, Emmett wouldn't leave his teleport lying around there. Even if he has before, it's not like he's in New York anymore. Sam knows it's a waste of time to look for that object, but maybe there's something else left behind in the apartment. Of course, he's banking on the fact that Emmett had left in such a hurry that he hadn't had time to collect everything from the place. If this isn't true, Sam is out of luck. 

He glances behind him as he walks down the sidewalk, noticing Michael trailing behind him with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his glare focused on the pavement. Sam knows that this is hard for Michael; not having the solution immediately. Sam couldn't give an answer about what might be happening to Avery, because he genuinely has no idea. All he knows is that it's better if they get there as soon as possible. He also knows that whatever entrance to Hiraeth they find, it's not going to be easy. Hiraeth is very well protected against anyone that isn't a sorcerer, and without a teleport, it's going to require some intensive magic to get in.

It takes a while for Sam and Michael to reach their destination because Sam has only been here once. At the time, he was a little blinded by anger, and it's not like he was taking the time to write out addresses. Another issue is that he's never even seen the inside of the apartment complex. He has no idea how he's going to manage to find Emmett's apartment. He didn't tell Michael any of this, however, because that would make it that much harder for Michael to  trust him.  

Sam pauses in front of the door, trying to be subtle about his scrutinizing.

“What are we waiting for?” Michael asks impatiently, stopping next to Sam with a wary expression. 

Sam looks over at Michael with a raised eyebrow, taking in the irritation in his expression. Although Michael has been far too understanding about everything that has to do with Hiraeth, he’s still stubbornly being distant towards Sam. It seems that the two of them working together has only made it worse. 

Sam sighs, pushing away his own personal dilemma to focus on the task at hand. He turns back to the door, wasting no more time to pull it open and step inside the building. Very aware of Michael standing beside him, Sam does a quick scan of the room, trying to not make it obvious that he’s never been here before. He shuffles a little on his feet, unsure of his next move, and in the corner of his eyes he sees Michael’s eyes narrow. Not wanting to answer the obvious question,  _ Do you know what you’re doing?  _ Sam veers to the left and heads for the front desk. He runs through his options in his head, and when he finds that there’s only one, it’s hard to keep the grimace off of his face.

When Sam stops in front of the counter, a tired man looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. He looks like he’s been here for too long and all he wants to do is go home, so it doesn’t surprise Sam when he doesn’t get a friendly greeting. 

“How can I help you?” The man asks through a sigh.

Sam bites his lip, his eyes falling to the desk as he thinks over what he hasn’t done in years. The last time he did, he was in Hiraeth, and he so desperately wanted to get rid of those memories that it’s hazy. 

The only magic that Sam has done recently was the spell he used on Michael. Although he’s rusty, calming magic comes easy to air sorcerers. It’s something they learn in grade school. It’s almost like second nature, and definitely something Sam would never forget. The spell he’s thinking of now, however, is much more complicated. 

Not only does Sam have to tap into the part of himself that he never wanted to reach again, he has to pass it on to someone else. A complete stranger.  

“Hello?” The man breaks into Sam’s thoughts, the bitterness in his tone causing Sam to look back up at him. 

“Yeah, uh…” Sam murmurs. 

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the odd looks he receives from both Michael and the man. He lets his awareness float down to his chest, feeling the magic inside of him start to grow and shift. It floats through his body like a cool breeze, bringing life to each of his muscles. He flexes his fingers, feeling the magic course through them, waiting to break the surface at his command. The spell enters his mind, and automatically his magic reacts, preparing to bend to Sam’s will. One part of him almost feels giddy as he feels the energy rushing through him. It’s been so long that he’s used magic that he’s forgotten how rejuvenating it can feel. It brings him to a whole other, uncrowded, part of his mind, letting everything else relax as the magic does it’s work. On the other hand, this feeling completely terrifies Sam. He’s been repressing his magic for so long because he knew how good it would feel. Now, if he can find a way, he will go to Hiraeth and the feeling will come on that much more powerfully. He can’t let it distract him. 

Sam clears his thoughts, lifting his gaze so that his eyes lock with the man in front of him. He lets the spell fly out from his fingers, encasing the man’s wrists. Although it’s not something the man can see or feel, the effect of the magic is unmistakable. The irritable look on his face falls, leaving a blank stare behind. He goes rigid, and his eyes glaze over. Sam sighs, feeling guilty as his magic takes hold. Next to him, Sam hears Michael’s small gasp. He glances over for a second, but then his attention returns to the now dazed man.

“WHich apartment does Emmett Grey have?” Sam asks, shifting awkwardly on his feet when Michael’s stare turns to him.

Instead of responding, the man immediately turns to his computer. Sam looks curiously over at Michael, who’s staring at the man incredulously. 

“What did you just do?” Michael whispers, leaning closer to Sam. 

Sam answers as the man starts clicking away on the keyboard, “It’s sort of a persuasion spell. It just… well it makes anybody do what I want them to do.” 

Michael turns to him with wide eyes, “You can do that?” 

Sam nods, a frown forming on his lips, “I don’t like doing it. I haven’t done it in a long time. But, I didn’t exactly have a choice.” 

“I thought you knew where Emmett’s apartment was,” Sam doesn’t miss the way Michael’s lip twists on Emmett’s name. 

“Well I do know,” Sam shrugs, “Now.” 

Michael rolls his eyes, but a ghost of a smile appears on his face. Sam grings, unable to hide his giddiness at amusing Michael, at least a little bit. He’s not sure, but he thinks that the ice between them is starting to melt. Although, he thought that last night as well. As he watches Michael’s face, he can’t help but wonder why Michael is so determined to keep the separation. He tried to explain it, but the reasoning doesn’t make any sense to Sam. As much as he wants to respect Michael’s decision, it’s also obvious to him that Michael isn’t happy. They know each other too well for the kind of hostility Michael is trying to pull off. 

“Apartment 210,” the clerk interrupts Sam’s reverie, and his eyes quickly fall away from Michael so he can focus again. 

Sam locks eyes with the man yet again, carefully pulling his magic away from his wrists. With a jolt, the man’s eyes come back into focus, and he blinks repeatedly. His eyebrows furrow, and his head tilts to the side in confusion, “Sir, do you want help or not?” he asks, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sam smiles, “Actually, no. Sorry to bother you,” he says, taking a step away from the counter.

Quickly, he heads for the elevator, Michael picking up his pace to keep up with him.  

“So, it’s that easy?” Michael asks as Sam pushes the up button and the elevator doors pull open.  

They stop on, and Sam look at Michael with raised eyebrows, “What’s easy?” 

Michael waits for the doors to close before he answers, “Magic. That spell. It seemed very simple.”

Sam chuckles humorlessly, looking down at the floor, “It wasn’t always that easy. That spell took a lot of training. Usually, sorcerers need tools to do something like that. Princes are trained to work without tools.” 

“Tools?” Michael asks with a slightly exasperated tone, as if he can’t believe there’s anything else Sam could possibly tell him about magic. 

Sam smiles, unable to hide his amusement at Michael’s expression, “I’ll tell you about it later.” 

Unfortunately,  _ later  _ comes after a few minutes after Sam manages to get Emmett’s apartment door open and he and Michael peer inside. Michael’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the many different gadgets that clutter the otherwise bland room.  Different shades of gold and silver twinkle throughout the room, making it hard for Michael’s eyes to focus on any specific object. His mouth pops open as he takes in the sight, trying to find anything familiar to him. The only thing he can name is the TV remote on the coffee table.  

“Are these…?” Michael wonders aloud, although he can already figure the answer. 

“Yes, these are magic tools. All of them,” Sam answers, completely astonished. 

Michael watches as Sam crosses to the other side of the room to a shelf that holds a small, ovular tool, taking it into his hands.  

“I’ve never seen this many in one room before. Except at the palace,” Sam says, distractedly looking down at the object.

Michael squints at him, wondering if Sam realises how weird that sentence actually is. Michael moves to a shelf as well, his eyes finding a golden tool with markings covering it. He peers at it, realising that the different lines are some sort of language. He reaches out to touch it, stroking a line of words with one of his fingers. 

“I wouldn't mess with that one too much,” Sam says, and Michael looks up to see Sam standing next to him, eyeing the object with a disdainful expression.

Michael raises an eyebrow questioningly, but he sets the tool down anyway, “What is it?” 

Sam meets his eyes, suddenly wary, “It’s an old spell,” he says vaguely.

“What does it do?” Michael asks curiously, again looking at the small, harmless looking piece of metal. 

When Sam doesn’t answer right away, Michael glances back at him, searching his expression. Clearly, he recognises the object, but he won’t say what it is. A thousand different scenarios fly through Michael’s mind, none of them good. With what Michael already knows about Hiraeth, should he assume that all of these tools do something horrible?

“It’s just dangerous,” Sam finally says, turning away from the shelf and looking around at everything else in the space.

Michael mimics him, trying to keep the  _ old spell  _ out of his mind, “Okay, so where do we start? What exactly are we looking for?” 

“Anything that will get us into Hiraeth. Or pull someone out, but I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Sam sighs.  

Michael stares around at the room, and then immediately feels very stupid. How is he supposed to know if these weird, magic bobbles do anything to transport people to a different dimension? He bites his lip, glancing at Sam again. 

“Um…” Michael murmurs, not knowing exactly how to phrase his question. 

Sam smiles at him in understanding. Then, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes move to a different point in the room. Michael’s eyes follow as Sam walks over to a bookshelf, his finger touches the spines as he searches. 

“Here we go!” Sam says, pulling out a large, worn out book that has no words on the spine or the cover. 

Sam walks back over, holding the book out to Michael with a small smile. Michael looks down at the book with a raised eyebrow. 

“What is it?” he questions, hesitantly . taking the book. He grimaces when the weight takes him off guard. 

“It’s sort of a… guide book, I guess. It will help you sort through these tools and probably have some other spells as well,” 

Michael flips the book open, letting it fall open to a random page. He skims through the words, seeing how extensive the book seems to be, “Did you have to read this?” 

“It was one of my study guides, yes,” Sam says, and Michael notices the note of sarcasm in his words, “Alright, let’s get to work.” 

For the next hour, Michael tries to read through the book, trying to find anything that mentions teleporting, or getting someone out of Hiraeth. Mostly, he wastes a lot of time reading half a page, only to find out that nothing he’s read is even a spell. As he reads, he realises just how much history goes into each spell or tool, and Hiraeth in general. Although it makes sense, it’s still very surreal that this world of magic has history at all. He does find a few pages on teleportation, but they’re always littered with words that Michael doesn’t recognise. When he asks Sam about them, he says that they’re other tools that Emmett doesn’t seem to have here in his apartment. 

After another twenty minutes, Michael can’t take it anymore. He closes the book, resting it on his lap. He rests his elbows on the cover and buries his face in his hands. He tries to ignore the discomfort in his back from slouching over for so long, and the numbness in his legs from sitting. He shifts his hands to hold his head, trying to fight back the growing headache. He finds Sam, who’s sitting on the floor surrounded by the little metal tools, planning to make a quip about how this is more exhausting than school was. Instead, the object in Sam’s hand distracts Michael. It’s less the object, and more the bright glow coming from it, connecting with Sam’s palm. Sam’s hand lifts above the object, and the brightness follows, seeming to come from Sam’s fingertips. Then, he turns his hand into a fist and the light drifts away.

Michael stares in fascination as Sam puts that object and picks up another, seeming to repeat the same process. His eyes drift to Sam’s face, and he’s immediately transfixed on Sam’s expression. His eyes are closed, but moving rapidly underneath his eyelids. His head is slightly tilted to the side, his lips occasionally moving to form phrases that Michael probably wouldn’t understand if he could hear them. The vulnerability on Sam’s face hits Michael hard, and he has an overwhelming urge to touch it. He tightly holds onto the book, keeping himself in place. He can’t tear his eyes away, though.

Sam’s eyes suddenly open, and they immediately find Michael. Michael blushes, snapping back to reality and looking down at the book. He grimaces when he sees the book is closed, and it’s obvious he’s been staring for a while. He huffs quietly, opening to a random page and trying to focus on the words. He hears Sam standing up, and as hard as Michael tries to keep looking at the book, he can’t. He looks up at Sam again, watches as he crosses the room and sits down in front of Micheal. 

“Find anything?” Sam asks, looking down at the page Michael flipped to. 

Michael has to repeat the words in his mind a few times, trying to make sense of them. Sam’s sudden proximity has completely throw Michael off, and he can’t string together a coherent thought. 

“Uh, yes. I mean, no. Nothing on Teleportation, no,” Michael stammers, blushing deeper then he had before.

He shakes his head to clear away his distractions, closing his eyes to keep his mind off of how easy it would be to reach out to Sam. He thinks over what he’s read, realises exactly what it means to have nothing. He has no way of getting to Avery. No way of getting him out of Hiraeth. He opens his eyes again, looking at Sam with panic in his expression. 

“Did you find anything?” Michael asks desperately, looking over at all the tools where Sam had been sitting.

Sam sighs, “No, I didn’t. I am learning that there are many different tools that I never got to study,” Sam smiles tightly. 

Michael let’s Sam’s words distract him for the time being, “I thought you said that you were trained to not use tools.” 

Sam shrugs, “We were, but we still had to know what the tools do. We had to know everything about Hiraeth.” 

“Well, clearly you didn’t learn everything,” Michael says, a small teasing smile playing at his lips. 

Sam scoffs, raising an eyebrow at him, “Oh yeah? Well, you’re a prince too, and you don’t know anything,” he teases back. 

Michael’s eyes widen in mock offense, “That isn’t my fault, now is it? 

Sam laughs at Michael’s expression, rolling his eyes. He looks back over at his pile of objects, and he sighs again, “This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. Actually, it’s exactly as hard as I thought it was going to be.” 

Michael looks back down at his book, the humor slowly draining off of his face. Suddenly, Avery’s face enters his mind. The way he looked when he had gotten home late at night after being with Emmett. He had been so terrified, and there was nothing that Michael could do to make him feel better.  

Just like that, Michael’s heart picks up pace, and he suddenly feels ten degrees cooler. He swallows, and he feels all of the moisture leave his mouth.  

“Sam, what are we going to do?” Michael whispers, and his words are barely audible. 

He looks down at his hands, and when he sees them beginning to shake, he feebly reaches into his pocket. When he realises his medication is nowhere to be found, his eyes widen. His heart starts to hammer, and his throat closes. He throws the book off of his lap and pulls his knees up, trying to keep himself together. He tries to take steady breaths, but it’s too late for that. 

“Michael, it’s okay,” Sam says, his eyes going from tired to panicked when he takes in Michael’s sudden shift in mood. 

Michael barely hears him as different thoughts move too quickly through his brain. Avery being torn away from New York, going somewhere he doesn’t know, scared and alone. Defenseless. And then, somewhere in the depths of Michael’s thoughts, Dan appears in his head. What was he feeling when he killed himself? What would drive him to that point? What would drive Avery to that point? 

Michael squeezes his eyes shut, and he tries to take a deep breath, but he can’t control the quick, uneven pace of his breathing. Distantly, he feels Sam’s hands on his shoulders, but he ignores it. He tries to focus on the task at hand, but he can’t. All he can think about is how useless all of this is. How useless  _ he  _ is. He doesn’t know anything. He can’t do anything. He can’t help Avery; he can barely help himself. 

He doesn’t notice the tears streaming down his face until Sam wipes them away. He suddenly hears the sobs moving past his lips, and he tightly closes his mouth. He shakily falls forward, his head moving to Sam’s chest. HE feels Sam’s arms encircle him, and he lets himself completely break down. He lets the panic attack take over, the whole time wishing this whole nightmare would end.

* * *

 

In a daze of exhaustion from the overwhelming day, Avery and Emmett find themselves back inside the house. For about two hours, they’ve been deliriously lounging in the living room, either laughing about nothing or sitting in a comfortable silence. When Avery looks over at the clock hanging beside the entry to the kitchen, he sees that it’s a quarter past one in the morning.

From where he’s laying across the sofa, Emmett looks over at Avery, expecting to see the same lighthearted expression that he’s been wearing all night. Instead, he sees a strange, quizzical look on Avery’s face. Curiously, Emmett watches as Avery’s face shifts as he thinks. He holds back a grin as Avery’s face scrunches and tilts in a completely adorable fashion. When Avery turns to meet his gaze, Emmett blushes. 

Avery opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it, biting his lip and looking away. Emmett raises an eyebrow, sitting up on the couch and leaning forward.

“What?” Emmett asks, disturbing the peaceful quiet. 

Avery turns toward him again, sitting up from where he’d been laying across the coffee table in front of Emmett’s sofa. He could’ve taken the seat next to Emmett, but for some reason laying down on the table seemed more amusing at the time, “I was just wondering, why’d you bring me here?” 

Emmett blinks in surprise, taken off guard by the question, “Because you said you wanted to,” is the only response he can think of. 

Avery chuckles a little, but distantly, like his mind is a thousand miles away, “No, I mean, why’d you offer? Why did you tell me about this place?” 

Again, Emmett doesn’t know how to answer. The question seems to have an obvious answer, but Emmett can’t seem to find it, “Don’t you think you have a right to know? I mean, you were born here. And, the whole royalty thing,”

Avery shakes his head while leaning forward, obviously determined to get the answer he’s looking for, “No, I mean why did  _ you  _ tell me about it? What’s in it for you? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who does nice things just because.”

A wide range of emotions courses through Emmett as he finally realises what Avery is asking.  _ Why do you care?  _ The answer to that is; Emmett doesn’t know. It’s a question that he has continuously been asking himself. He looks down at his hands, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“I… don’t know,” Emmett says honestly, keeping his eyes trained down, “Sam thinks it’s because…” he hesitates, looking up to gage Avery’s expression as he explains, “The royalties would award me for finding you.” 

Emmett bristles, expecting anger to rise in Avery’s expression, but he only tilts his head in curiosity as he asks, “is that true?”

Emmett sighs, looking back down at the floor, “At first, I didn’t know if Sam was right or not, but I’ve never had any interest in the prize. I mean, I wasn’t actively looking for you so I  _ could  _ get it. I just happened to find you. And, yeah, I’m selfish enough that, before I really met you, I thought it might not be so bad to get a prize. But, then I did meet you,” Emmett meets Avery’s eyes again, unable to continue staring at the floor. With Avery this close, he’s found that it’s hard to look away for a lengthy period of time, “The way you spoke, the way you see things, it’s like the whole world is a masterpiece. You have to understand; when you live in Hiraeth and take a trip to Earth, it seems very dull. All I saw in New York was gray. It was bland. Something I wanted to get away from. But you let me see things through your eyes for a little while, and it brought the color back,”

As Emmett speaks, Avery’s expression changes multiple times. Emmett watches, taking in every detail. He glances down, focusing on the soft smile playing at Avery’s lips now. 

Emmett continues, “I like the way you talk about things. I like you, Avery. I didn’t think I would. I don’t really like people. I don’t have friends. I don’t have any family. But you, you’re different. I wanted you to come with me because… I didn’t want to say goodbye yet,” as Emmett finishes, he’s shocked by his own words. He didn’t know where he was going when he started talking, but now that he’s done, he feels a sense of relief at finally having an answer.  

A grin spreads across Avery’s face, and he leans forward, taking one of Emmett’s hands to stop the nervous movement that Emmett hadn’t realised he was doing. Emmett looks down at Avery’s hand in his own, his mouth opening the tiniest bit when he feels the warmth coming off of Avery’s skin. He interlocks their fingers, and holds out his other hand for Avery to take. Avery does, and those fingers intertwine as well. 

“I like you too, y’know,” Avery whispers, and Emmett looks back up to see his face.  

With shock, Emmett realises that Avery is only a few inches away. He’s suddenly more aware of their hands laced together, and the heat coursing through them isn’t just from Avery’s magic, “You’re not going to have to say goodbye,” Avery mumbles, his gaze dropping down to Emmett’s lips. 

Emmett’s heart leaps in his chest, and without much more invitation than that, he’s tugging Avery forward. Avery gasps as his lips find Emmett’s, and it takes him a fraction of a second to process what’s happening. When he does, his eyes close and he melts against Emmett. He brings himself forward, sitting down in Emmett’s lap and curling his fingers through his hair. Emmett falls back against the couch with a sound of surprise at Avery’s eagerness, and the kiss deepens. Blazing heat courses through them as they move against each other, and Emmett’s hands find the bottom edge of Avery’s shirt. He moves his hands under the fabric, running his fingers along the skin of Avery’s back. Avery shivers in pleasure, tugging at the ends of Emmett’s hair. Emmett groans in delight, pressing Avery closer against him. He begins to trail kisses down Avery’s jaw, down to his neck. Avery’s head falls to the side, giving Emmett access. 

Emmett pulls away, opening his eyes to look up at Avery. He grins, seeing the look of bliss written on Avery’s face. He pulls his hands up, brushing the hair out of Avery’s eyes. They slowly open, and they’ve seemed to have darkened. His breathing is far less steady as it had been as well. Now, when Emmett leans forward to kiss Avery again, his movement is slower; more tender. He breathes Avery in, tangling his fingers in his curly hair. Avery’s hands move downward, resting on Emmett’s shoulders. He pulls at the fabric of Emmett’s shirt, wanting it to be out of the way.  

Again, Emmett pulls his lips away from Avery, but keeps his their foreheads touching, “Ave,” he starts, his voice husky, “we can slow down, if you want.” 

Avery leans back, meeting Emmett’s gaze. Through heavy breathing he asks, “Do you want to?” 

Emmett scans Avery’s face for a moment and finds disappointment coloring his expression. Emmett smiles in reassurance, glad that they’re both on the same page. “No,” he shakes his head, pressing his lips to Avery’s once again. 

  
  



	8. Trial and Error

Avery has never been a morning person, but as soon as the first ray of light breaks through Emmett’s bedroom window, he knows there will be no sleeping in.

It’s the brightness that wakes him up. As the unfamiliar Hiraeth sun rises in the sky, the light is overwhelming. It coats the whole room in a golden glow and forces Avery’s eyes to open. This is not what makes Avery wide awake, however. It’s the realization that he has just spent his first night in a place that, a week ago, he didn’t know existed, with someone he hardly knows. 

Avery lays with his face turned towards the ceiling, gnawing on his cheek nervously. Ever since he woke up, he’s been trying to stay as still as possible as to not wake Emmett up. He’s been doing his best to think about anything else, but it’s impossible when he can hear Emmett’s slow breathing right next to him. Now, unable to help himself, Avery’s eyes find Emmett. The sunlight touches Emmett’s features, displaying his soft, sleeping expression in a golden frame. Tentatively, Avery shifts, turning onto his side to fully face Emmett. 

In the morning glow, Emmett’s hair appears lighter than it had last night. It falls in his face now, and Avery feels the urge to brush it away; to touch each of Emmett’s features. He wants to memorize this scene; Emmett sleeping through the dazzling morning light, unknowingly glowing. When he’s like this, there is no calculation in his expression. There’s no carefully hiding what he’s really feeling. He’s just simply peaceful and utterly beautiful. 

As he stares, Avery’s mind starts to wander back to the night before. He remembers the feeling of Emmett’s hands on his skin, holding him like he never wanted to let go. It was so rushed in the beginning; lips crashing together and clutching each other too tightly. It had been on Avery’s mind the whole day; Emmett. His hand casually taking Avery’s. His arm going around Avery’s shoulders. Standing so close together in the star light; their lips only inches apart. Everything had been interrupted, so when it finally wasn’t, Avery didn’t want to waste anytime. Then, things started to slow down. Grasping became gentle touches, kissing became so sweet. They found a rhythm with each other, and it was addicting. Avery never wanted it to end. 

Finally, Avery gives in and reaches forward, gently touching a finger to Emmett’s lips. He moves across Emmett’s face, touching his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids. He does it painstakingly gentle, trying his best not to wake Emmett up. 

If Avery was completely sure where he stood with Emmett, maybe he wouldn’t be so careful. Maybe he wouldn’t care if Emmett woke up. The problem is; he doesn’t know what Emmett will say about last night. To Avery, it had felt like something he had never felt before. Avery has been with many other people, but he’s never felt that sort of connection. Last night had felt like the beginning of something Avery never thought he would have. It had certainly not been what he was looking for. But, there’s something so intoxicating about being with Emmett. The moment they met, Avery could feel something simmering beneath the surface. Something that, even now, he can’t describe. Not without feeling like cheesy moron.

All of that is perfect if Emmett feels the someway. They can spend their time in Hiraeth discovering each other and being together. Maybe they can even go back to New York together, if that’s what they decide. They could do anything they wanted, side by side. Hand in hand. There’s a chance, though, that Emmett doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe last night was just fun for Emmett. Maybe Avery had been misreading Emmett the whole day. Or, maybe Emmett was attracted to Avery, but it was just a fling sort of attraction. It’s not like Avery could blame Emmett for that. If that’s how Emmett feels, there’s no changing it. It’s not his fault is Avery has grown attached too quickly.

Avery turns away from Emmett, a deep frown etched onto his face. His whole body itches to move; to pace around the house, or to jog, or something. Anything accept laying here waiting for Emmett to wake up and reject him. With one last glance at Emmett, Avery carefully moves his legs off of the bed and gets to his feet. He waits, frozen, for Emmett to move or say something, but when Avery hears nothing, he starts walking. His eyes find the pile of clothes that were thrown to the floor, and he grimaces. In his rush to get out of New York, Avery didn’t think about packing a suitcase. 

Biting his lip nervously, he looks over to the dresser that sits against the opposite wall of the bed. He takes a few steps toward it, then looks over at Emmett. Would Emmett care of Avery borrowed some pajamas? Avery just shrugs to himself before walking towards the dresser and starts rifling through the drawers. 

Now dressed in a plain black T-shirt and comfortable shorts, Avery meanders his way through the living room and into the kitchen. He looks around at the potted plants lining both of the windows. On the kitchen counters, there are more small metallic objects  that Avery assumes has magical properties. They all have a golden hue in the morning light, and Avery can’t help but smile at the piece of artwork that is Emmett’s kitchen right now. 

He shuffles, looking around for anything to eat. He walks over to a cupboard, pulling it open. Shaking his head in amusement, Avery pushes away a few more magic tools before pulling out a loaf of bread. The constant reminder of magic has given Avery an idea, and he excitedly sets the bread down to pull out a few slices.

He sets two pieces of bread in front of him, shoving the loaf aside. Avery stares at them, suddenly feeling a little stupid. He could just find a toaster, but that seems a lot less fun, and certainly a lot less distracting. He needs a big distraction sight now. 

So, he shuts his eyes, preparing himself to find the fire inside of himself just like he had last night. He moves his focus down to his chest, quickly finding where his magic is stored away now that he knows where to look. A part of him wonders if it’s even his chest at all; maybe it’s a part of his soul that his pushing forward. Either way, he lets the warmth drift through his whole body, alighting all of his nerves. He pushes the magic into his hands, feeling it touch his fingers.

Avery grins, opening his eyes and focusing on the touch pieces of bread in front of him. Just like last night, Avery feels how easy it would be to let the fire break the surface. He feels jittery as he pictures flames coming out of his hands. What would that even look like? What would it feel like?

Just like that, as he pictures the flames erupting from himself, it happens. Flames begins to surge from his fingertips. He gasps wildly at the heat and the overwhelming feeling of never ending power. When he realises just how much fire is coming from him, he pulls it back inside of himself. His eyes widen when he takes in the bread, now completely burnt to a crisp. Then, his eyes lift and he sees the windowsill above him. The same plants he had noticed earlier, instead of glowing with golden sunlight, are now glowing with orange flame.

Avery screams, running over to the plants and quickly throwing them into the sink. He turns on the water, getting rid of the fire in one swift motion. His heart sinks as the dirt falls out of the plant, completely ruining the perfect, beautiful flowers within them. He curses under his breath, picking up the unearthed stems and setting them on the counter beside the sink. 

“What’s wrong?” Avery whirls around when Emmett’s concerned, breathless voice fills the room.

He’s standing at the edge of the kitchen, his eyes wide and his breathing coming out slightly harder than usual. Avery blushes a deep red, realises just how loudly he had screamed. 

As their eyes meet, every single one of Avery’s worries crash around his mind at full volume. Avery takes in Emmett’s messy hair, his bewildered expression. His eyes travel down to Emmett’s still bare chest, and he notices how Emmett’s skin gleams in this new light. Somehow blushing harder, Avery’s eyes quickly move back to Emmett’s face.

“I was- I was trying magic, and- and I killed some plants,” Avery stammers, his voice growing smaller as he gestures towards the soaked flowers on the counter.

Emmett’s eyebrows furrow, and his eyes drift down to the counter. As he does, his expression softens, and he glances back to Avery with one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry,” Avery mumbles, scanning Emmett’s face for any sign of irritation, or even anger.

Much to Avery’s surprise, he watches as Emmett first glances between Avery and the flowers a few times while trying to hold back a smile. Then, he starts to laugh. Avery blinks in surprise as Emmett doubles over, filling the previously quiet room with loud laughter. Emmett rests his hand on the wall, as if to hold himself up.

Avery scoffs, folding his arms across his chest and raising his eyebrows, “It’s not that funny!”

Emmett waves his hands in dismissal, “It’s very funny! You just set fire to my kitchen trying to make toast, and then screamed about setting fire to a couple of flowers,” he gets out while trying to stifle his laughter. 

Avery grimaces, rolling his eyes and trying to think of anything to say in response. As he watches Emmett try to pull himself together, he can’t help but crack a smile himself. It does seem pretty ridiculous; from Emmett’s point of view at least. Avery ends up chuckling a little as well. 

“It didn’t work as well as last night,” Avery says, looking towards his burnt toast.

Emmett takes a few steps forward, looking down at the bread as well, “Well, it could’ve been worse. This is actually a pretty subdued fire fumble compared to some of the others we have in this town,” Emmett shakes his head, clearly still amused.

Avery laughs again, his eyes falling towards the floor. As the room falls back into quiet, Avery feels the tension beginning to thicken. He glances up, meeting Emmett’s eyes, but then quickly turning away again. He is in now way ready to have this conversation, and he certainly doesn’t know where to start. In the corner of his eye, he sees Emmett leaning against the counter, waiting for Avery to say something. There’s something about his posture and clearly buoyant mood that makes Avery even more nervous then before. 

“So, um,” Avery says, then stops to clear his throat. He lifts his gaze, again finding Emmett’s eyes and forcing his own to stay put, “I don’t know exactly what last night was.”

Emmett furrows his eyebrows, and he’s possibly thinking of a response, but Avery continues anyway, too nervous to hear what Emmett might have to say.

“I mean, I know what it was to me,” Avery says in a rush, “But it might be different for you. If it was just a one time thing, that’s fine. But…” Avery trails off, taking a breath, “I don’t want it to be. I actually really, really like you.”

Avery waits, holding his breath. He watches as Emmett’s eyebrows smooth as he understands, but other then that Avery can’t read his expression. Avery’s heart thuds in his chest, and anger flares up in him at himself for screaming in the first place and waking Emmett up. He didn’t have enough time to prepare himself for rejection.

“You know what,” Avery blurts out, his eyes falling towards the ground, “We don’t have to do this now. It really doesn’t-”

And then Emmett’s hands are on the sides of Avery’s neck, tilting his face up and pressing their lips together. Avery squeeks in surprise, completely thrown out of balance. Then, his eyes close and he melts against Emmett, wrapping his hands around Emmett’s waist and pulling him closer.

Emmett pulls away after a few seconds, smiling down at Avery in the same relaxed way he has all morning, “Avery, you’re crazy if you think that, after all of this, I don’t like you. I  _ told  _ you that I liked you last night. Did you think I was lying?”

Avery grins at the words, his skin simmering underneath Emmett’s hands. It takes him a moment to pull himself together enough to respond, “No- I don’t know. I was just… scared.”

Emmett scoffs, then he leans forward and kisses Avery again. Avery sighs in contentment, his hands travelling up Emmett’s back, craving the contact. Again, Emmett pulls away, this time seeming more serious as he carefully examines Avery’s expression. Avery raises his eyebrows in question.

“I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to trust me,” Emmett murmurs, almost against Avery’s lips.

Avery pulls back a couple of inches, seeing the insecurity behind Emmett’s eyes. He realizes then that this is what Emmett probably saw on Avery’s face. How ridiculous they both are.

“Now who’s being crazy?” Avery laughs lightly, “Of course I trust you.”

Emmett smiles, but Avery can still see the concern burning in his mind. He wants to find the words to make Emmett believe him, but he falls short. Instead, he leans forward, touching his lips gently to Emmett’s, hoping to show him instead. 

* * *

 

Michael wakes up with a start. His eyes fall on a stack of books resting on the table in front of him, and as he continues looking around, he quickly assesses that he’s in a living room. Sam’s living room. It’s not his surroundings, or the uncomfortable couch, that has woken him, however. It’s the realisation that he’s not laying here by himself.

Sam’s arm is loosely wrapped around Michael’s side, and Michael can feel his slow, steady breathing against his neck. Michael lays impossibly still, holding his breath. He worries that his growing panic will be evident in his breathing. Then, he squeezes his eyes shut, letting go of his breath through a huff. He’s so tired of panicking. 

Instead of focusing on the now, Michael retraces his steps from last night. He remembers breaking into Emmett’s apartment with Sam and going through all of his things. He had gotten so overwhelmed with everything going on, and his pills were nowhere to be found. He had been holding in a panic attack for so long that it came on too hard. Michael couldn’t stop himself from throwing himself into Sam’s arms. In that moment, he needed the comfort of someone he trusts, and Sam was right there. Just as he’s always been. 

Michael feels his heart squeeze in his chest, and he feels a lump forming in his throat. Stinging guilt washes over him as he remembers Sam holding Michael so tightly and taking him all the way back to his apartment. Michael doesn’t know the details; he had been too deep in his own fear to notice anything else. Vaguely, he remembers crying into Sam’s shirt for hours until he fell asleep. He remembers Sam whispering reasurences into his ear; his hand moving up and down Michael’s back in a comforting way. Sam had never seen Michael fall apart to that extent before, and yet he was there the whole time. Not once did he leave Michael alone, like a lot of other people might have.

How can Michael continue to be so cold towards Sam after last night? How can he keep pushing him away? It’s hard enough now that they’re working together to help Avery, but Michael was managing. He was doing his best to keep their relationship the way it should be, no matter how much it was hurting him. And it hurt a lot. Each time he pictured Sam’s wounded expression, it felt like a blade digging into an already sore cut. All he wants to do is forget why he’s trying so hard, and to kiss him until that face fades from both of their minds. But, he didn’t. He kept his cool and focused on the task at hand. Now that Michael knows just how much Sam cares about him, enough to stay with Michael during one of his ugliest moments, how can Michael keep up his composure?

Michael sighs, shaking his head at himself. He wants to get up and sort through all of his thoughts. Not just about his feelings, but about everything he learned yesterday. Sorcerers, princes, magical alternate universes, everything. In the quiet of Sam’s ordinary apartment, it all seems like a hazy dream. It’s hard to analyze information when he’s pressed against Sam like this.

The hard part is; Michael can’t find the motivation to move. If he gets up now, Sam might wake up, and Michael would have to face everything without knowing what to say. It’s a conversation he’s not prepared for; hence wanting to get off of the couch in the first place. Of course, that’s the reason he would tell anyone that asked. In reality, it just feels too good to be around Sam like this. It’s something Michael didn’t even know he’d been craving until now. 

Michael pushes those thoughts away, focusing instead on why he needs to get just a little bit of separation. Hesitantly, he shifts on the couch, trying to inch his way off of it little by little by little. Being on a couch makes this so much harder than it could’ve been, made even more complicated by the fact that Sam’s arm is still around Michael. Michael bites his lip, holding his breath while he scoots towards the floor. Finally, he quietly rolls off of the couch, still holding his breath while he waits for any sign that Sam has woken up. When none comes, he gets to his feat.

He heaves a sigh, looking down at Sam’s peaceful expression. There’s a pang in Michael’s chest, and he has to stop himself from crawling back onto the couch; back into Sam’s arms. He tears his eyes away, instead walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. 

Half an hour later, Sam slowly begins to wake and his eyes unwillingly open. He yawns, stretching out across the couch. It takes him a moment to realise that he definitely shouldn’t have this much space. Sam feels his heart sink when he realizes that, again, Michael has left him while he was sleeping. 

Sam sighs, covering his face with his hands. He groans when he feels his eyes sting with tears, and he shuts them tightly to keep the moisture from spilling over. He tells himself that he’s only getting so upset because he’s just woken up and he’s still tired. He doesn’t want to think about how much not being with Michael actually hurts him. He throws his hands back down, shaking his head in disappointment. Not because of Michael disappearing, but because he allowed himself to hope for something more. More then what happened last time they were in bed together.

Sam rolls on his side, wanting to let his mood lull him back into sleep, and then almost falls off of the couch when his eyes land on the kitchen doorway. A strange, shocked noise leaves comes from his throat when he sees Michael leaning on a counter, holding a glass of water with his face screwed up in concentration, completely oblivious to Sam waking up.

Immediately, Sam’s heart picks up pace, and he fully wakes up. He blinks multiple times, waiting for Michael to disappear. When he doesn’t, Sam sits up on the couch, feeling his mouth go dry as he tries to think of what to do in this situation. He shifts on the couch, unable to keep himself from staring at Michael’s still form. The soft light coming from the kitchen windows illuminates his thoughtful expression. He’s leaning against a counter, a glass of water in his hand. His breathing is steady, and everything about him seems calm. If it weren’t for the deep, overthinking look in his eyes, he would almost seem peaceful. 

Despite the events of the last few days, Sam can’t help the smile that forms on his face. This is so different then Michael has been acting lately. Obviously, it’s because he doesn’t know Sam is watching. Although, maybe not; because this is how Michael always seemed before everything went wrong. He had always been comfortable around Sam, and he never his what he was thinking. It was Sam who was being careful and keeping secrets. 

Finally becoming aware he’s being watched, Michael turns his head towards the couch. When his eyes find Sam’s, he blinks a few times, fully coming out of the depths of his mind. Too late, Sam moves his glance downward, pretending to yawn and stretch. 

Michael feels his heart flutter wildly for a moment as he realises Sam has woken up, but he’s able to calm down after a few seconds. This is surprising, but he doesn’t dwell on that. He sets his glass on the counter before starting back into the living room. 

Sam’s eyes lift as Michael sits down at the end of the couch, and Michael tries not to roll his eyes at the slightly innocent expression on his face. As if he hadn’t been staring only seconds ago. He wants to be annoyed, but Michael finds himself holding back a smile. 

“Good morning,” Sam says, his voice thick with sleep. 

Michael takes in Sam’s wild hair and wide eyes, and the clear bewilderment written all over his face. He loses the battle, and a full grin spreads across his face as he asks, “What’s with you?”

Sam’s eyebrows lift, and he sits up completely on the couch, “What do you mean?”

Michael scans his face, then shrugs, “I don’t know, you just seem… different.”

Sam looks down at the couch, considering what to say. He brushes his fingers through his messy hair, trying to tame his waves as he answers, “It was an interesting night.”

Unexpectedly to both of them, Michael flinches as the night before comes back into his mind. He knows Sam is referring to the fact that they slept wrapped around each other, but the huge breakdown is sticking in Michael’s mind. Sam’s eyebrows knit together in worry, and he instinctively puts a hand on Michael’s shoulder before thinking it over. Another surprise; Michael leans into his touch, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Michael murmurs after a few seconds, opening his eyes so Sam can see the sincerity there. 

“You’re sorry?” Sam asks in confusion, not automatically understanding Michael’s mood shift.

Michael’s eyes find the floor, and his frown deepens, “I would’ve taken my meds, but I didn’t have them. And, I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that, I just got really overwhelmed and-”

“Michael,” Sam interrupts softly, not wanting to ever see this sort of look on Michael’s face; like he’s scared Sam is going to chastise him for something, “You don’t need to apologise. You’ve told me about your anxiety before, remember? It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you into all of this.”

Michael lifts his gaze again, his eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth, wanting to argue. He wants to say that of course Sam should’ve involved him. It should’ve been sooner, if he’s being honest with himself. Part of him also wants to argue that it  _ is  _ his fault that he had another panic attack. There’s no reason for Sam to blame himself when Michael could’ve stopped it from happening in the first place. 

Instead of doing any of that, Michael doesn’t do either of those things. He heaves a sigh, then falls against the couch. He looks down at Sam’s hand as it falls off of Michael’s shoulder and onto the couch. Michael bites the inside of his cheek, then hesitantly he reaches out and brushes his fingers against Sam’s. Slowly, he moves until their hands are wrapped around each other. Then, he closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the feeling of the tiniest bit of contact. Somehow, it seems so different from last night. Michael had been distraught, and Sam was holding him for comfort. Now, Michael is the one to initiate it. Even though holding hands is a small act, it’s something that Michael does just because he wants to. Because he wants to be close with Sam. In this moment, sitting in Sam’s living room after one of the worst nights he’s had in awhile, Michael doesn’t think it’s so wrong. He doesn’t feel the usual guilt that overwhelms him. 

Michael knows that they have more to do. He knows that he has to find Avery, which requires going to a magical universe that he only heard about two nights ago. He knows that there’s a possibility that Avery is in danger, and the thought nearly drives him up the wall.

However, he can’t bring himself to find the energy. All he wants to do is sit here on this couch with Sam, reliving old memories in his head. If he’s being honest with himself, he wants to wrap back up in Sam’s arms and go back to sleep. But, for now, this is good enough. Their hands pressed together feels like the only thing completely holding him together, and it’s all he needs right now.  _ The rest can wait,  _ he decides. At least for an hour or two. 

* * *

 

“Avery, you have to focus. You’re new at this, remember?”

“I almost set your kitchen on fire, Emmett. I remember.”

Emmett stands in the small meadow behind his house, facing the trees instead of his deck. Avery stands in front of him, his arms slightly outstretched in an odd fashion. To someone else, it might seem like he was waiting for an embrace. Really, he’s just trying to get his magic flowing again. This time, a little less aggressively. He’s facing the same direction as Emmett, and although they’re not facing each other, Avery is very aware of his presence. 

Emmett chuckles, stepping forward and lightly resting his hands on Avery’s waist, “I know you can do this.”

Avery swallows, trying to ignore the soft pressure of Emmett’s hands. There are already too many distractions. He shakes his head in defeat, letting his arms fall to his sides. 

“How am I supposed to focus when you do that?” Avery sighs, leaning into Emmett’s touch for emphasis.

“Do what?” Emmett asks innocently, but his arms completely wrap from Avery.

Emmett pulls Avery closely against him, head head lowering to kiss Avery’s shoulder.

“You’re not helping,” Avery giggles, playfully trying to pull away. 

Emmett sighs dramatically, letting some distance between them but moving his hands to where they were before. Avery shakes his head in amusement, then begins the long process of clearing his mind. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Avery murmurs, more to himself than to Emmett. He lifts his arms again in preparation.

“Yes you can, you’ve done it before,” Emmett encourages, “You did it without any help earlier.”

Avery snorts at the memory, not sure if it really counts. He doesn’t say anything, however. Instead, he closes his eyes. He thinks back to this morning, remembering how easy it was to pull the flame through his body. With a huff, he realises why he’s having so much trouble now. Just like before, he can feel the exact spot inside himself where the magic waits for instruction. Earlier, he had been eager; excited. He had grabbed it and pulled it forward without a second thought. It was like any other skill he’s known since childhood.

Now, he’s hesitating. He’s second guessing every move he makes. Whenever he goes to pull the fire through him, his ming backs off. It’s like the sorcerer part of his brain shuts down again.

Taking a deep breath, Avery pushes against the blockage. He forces it away, telling himself that it’s perfectly fine to use his magic. He doesn’t have to be afraid.  _ I’m in control,  _ he murmurs to the anxious part of his mind. 

Just like that, the heat surges away from his chest, flowing urgently toward his fingertips. With a jolt, Avery fiercely drives it backwards, not willing to let it fly away from himself yet. He takes another, long breath, and then slowly allows the fire to move again. For a second, he lets himself enjoy the feeling of power in his palms.. The exhilaration mixed with the flames warms his whole body, making him feel more alive then he’s ever felt. It makes him feel like his whole life he’s been dreaming, and he’s finally waking up. After a long second has passed, he lets the magic go past his fingertips.

As soon as Avery does, his eyes fly open. Half of him wants to make sure he doesn’t burn anything to a crisp, but the other half of him just wants to see the strange fire in action.

Avery stops breathing altogether as he watches his hands light up like candles. The flame moves at his command, and it flickers wildly as Avery makes it grow and shrink. He brings his hands closer to his face, focusing hard on the small balls of light. He moves the fire back inside of himself, only to let it fly out in his palms instead. He joins his hands together, forming a good sized sphere of flame. He holds it for a moment, completely fascinated by the shifting colors and the feeling against his skin. It tingles lightly, and he waits for it to become uncomfortable, but it never does. As he watches, it only becomes more of a part of himself. 

Biting his lip in concentration, Avery separates the sphere into small sections, and they drift to different parts of his hand. In a short moment, tiny dots of flame decorate his skin. He stares hard at them, trying to get them to move the way he wants. With what feels like a blow to his chest, he pushes the magic away from himself. The flickering orbs fly away from his skin, floating up into the air. Avery had expected to lose control of them at this point, but he doesn’t. His hands lift instinctually towards the airborne flame, the connection still strong. 

“Avery,” Emmett whispers, and with a wild gasp Avery is drawn back into the present.

 Avery watches in wonderment as his homemade stars float back to him, sinking into his skin. As his magic snaps back into his chest, he falls backwards against Emmett, sucking in huge mouthfuls of air. Somehow, he had forgotten to breathe. 

Emmett steadies Avery, then quickly walks around to meet Avery’s eyes. Still dazed, Aveyr continues to sway, and Emmett puts his hands on Avery’s shoulders to keep him still. 

“You alright?” Emmett asks. There’s a teasing smile on his face, but it doesn’t completely hide his concern. 

Avery blinks rapidly, trying to assess his well being. He feels almost like he’s just run a marathon; his muscles are worn out, but at the same time he feels strangely alert. He’s very aware of everything around him.

“Yes,” Avery clears his throat, “I just… what was that?”

Emmett grins, hesitantly letting go of Avery’s shoulders, half of him still prepared for Avery to fall over, “That was First Time Sorcerer Syndrome.”

Avery raises his eyebrows at Emmett’s clear understanding, “What?”

“Sometimes that happens when sorcerers really see their magic for the first time. They fet so lost in themselves that they completely forget about everything else. Even breathing,” Emmett explains.

“Oh, come on,” Avery says doubtfully, “That’s not a real thing. I wasn’t that out of it.”

Emmett laughs shortly, raising an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? I had to say your name quite a few times before you even remembered I was there.”

Avery blinks in surprise, realising how consumed he had really been, “Well, that’s dangerous,” he murmurs, but when he tries to bring himself to be worried about it, he finds himself unable. It had been too satisfying.

When he sees a smile forming on Avery’s lips, Emmett can’t help but grin in response, “How did it feel?”

Avery opens his mouth, trying to think of exactly how to describe it. When he comes up short, he ends up laughing, too giddy to stop himself, “It was incredible. I don;t even know what to say. I don’t know what I did, I just…” he trails off, shaking his head in bewilderment. 

Emmett feels the exuberance coming off of Avery, and he matches Avery's joy as he says, “I know the feeling,” 

A fluttery feeling bursts in Avery’s stomach, and he suddenly flings his arms around Emmett’s shoulders, tightly hugging him, “Thank you so much for showing me this. This is all so amazing.”

Emmett staggers back a little, laughing in surprise as he wraps his arms around Avery. He sighs in contentment, letting his head drop to Avery’s shoulder. He knows that he made the right choice in bringing Avery here. All he wanted was to let Avery have the incredible moment of being in Hiraeth and discovering magic, and that’s exactly what’s happening. How could bringing Avery this moment be something bad?

Still feeling the rush of excitement, Avery brings his face up and fervently presses his lips to Emmett’s. He stands on his toes, quickly getting lost in the sparks that spread through his body. He curls his fingers in Emmett’s hair, greedily wanting to keep him there forever. Emmett responds eagerly, his hands tracing Avery’s back and pulling them closer together. When Avery’s heart starts beating too fast for comfort, he unwillingly pulls away to catch his breath. 

Emmett eyes open, and he looks down at Avery with a slightly dazed smile. Avery grins back, leaning forward once more to kiss Emmett much more softly; short and sweet. 

A glint appears in Ememtt’s eye, and he releases his hold around Avery’s waist. Instead of stepping back, he takes Avery’s hands in both of his. Aberu watches curiously as his eyes close, and he squeezes Avery’s hands ever so slightly. 

Then, Avery feels the same rush of heat beneath his skin, alighting all of his nerves. Instinctually, his eyes close as the fire washes over him. Now that he knows what to look for, AVery can feel Emmett’s presence in his mind. He can feel the unfamiliar magic mixing with his own. He leans forward without realising it, breathing in the strange sensation. 

Avery has felt this twice before now; Emmett’s magic flowing through his veins. The first time, it had been terrifying. Emmett was pulling him away from New York, and Avery had no idea what was happening. His reaction had been to throw himself into Emmett’s arm because it made him feel safer in the moment. The second time was much different. Emmett had been very subtle about it, because he was trying to get Avery’s magic started. Avery had barely noticed; he had been too focused on the magical object in his hand.

Now, Avery can feel the intensity of the powers coming from Emmett’s body. Just like his own, Avery can feel Emmett’s magic moving. He can practically see it. It moves from Emmett’s palms, trickling slowly to Avery’s fingertips and making its way towards his chest, right where his own magic waits to meet it. Somehow, it doesn’t feel exactly like magic. It feels like Emmett’s energy, his soul, like he’s sharing a part of himself with Avery. 

Avery realises quickly that that’s exactly what Emmett is doing. He’s showing Avery that he trust him with one of the biggest parts of himself. Something that Emmett cherises more than anything else. He’s showing Avery that even though their relationship is short lived, their connection is still very real. It means a lot to Emmett, and he wants Avery to know that. 

Before long, the magic seeps away from Avery, Leaving him colder than he’s felt in a while. He takes a deep breath, trying to ensure that his emotional state doesn;t show too much on his face. He opens his eyes slowly, taking in the intensely vulnerable expression on Emmett’s face. Emmett stands very still, his hands still woven around Avery’s. As Avery scans Emmett’s face, he sees a deep rooted fear in his eyes. 

A lump forms in Avery’s throat, and he pulls his hands away from Emmett’s grasp. He searches every corner of his mind, trying to put into words what Emmett’s action means to him. Unfortunately, so many thoughts are swimming around in his mind that he can’t force sound from his throat. He sighs, shaking his head in disappointment at his own incompetence. 

Forgetting about explanations and confessions of feelings, Avery decides to respond in the only way he truly wants to. He finds Emmett’s hands again, slowly tracing his fingers up his arms until his palms are resting on the sides of Emmett’s neck. He leans in slowly, letting the moment build up until their lips softly touch. Emmett relaxes into the kiss, as if he’d been completely imobile until this moment. Avery feels the fear leaving Emmett’s mind as his arms wind around Avery’s sides, pressing their bodies against each other. 

Avery’s the first to pull away, his breathing heavy. He pulls completely out of Emmett’s grasp, letting himself have the space to get a clear head. He grins at Emmett’s disappointed expression, shaking his head in amusement.

“Come on,” Avery says through a sigh, part of him wanting to stay wrapped up in Emmett’s arms. The other part of him, however, is worried about the strong connection they have to one another, and he doesn’t want to focus on how confusing those feelings are. He decides to change the atmosphere entirely, “Show me some fun beginner spells to do.”

* * *

 

Sam decided that it was probably best if Michael didn’t come to Emmett’s apartment this time. The plan was that Sam would spend the day there, searching through all of Emmett’s things. However, when he found the spellbook that he knew would have something worthwhile, he figured that he and Michael could just look through it together. Really, he just didn’t want to spend the day away from Michael, especially when the ice between them is finally starting to melt away. He doesn’t have to tell Michael that, though. 

As he opens the door to his apartment, the large book uncomfortably placed under his arm, half of him still expects Michael to have disappeared. So, as he peers in the room and sees Michael sitting on the couch with his eyes fixed on a random point in his living room, Sam starts. He pauses for a second, his hand still on the doorknob. Then, he gives his head a shake to clear his surprise and steps into the room. He clears his throat, drawing Michael’s attention as he closes the door with his foot. 

Michael turns his head toward Sam, blinking repeatedly as he focuses. Then, his eyebrows furrow, “You’re back?” It comes out as a question.

“Yep,” Sam says, moving the book so it’s pointing more towards michael.

Michael’s eyes zone in the book, and he urgently stands up, “Did you find something?”

Sam walks forward, setting the book down on the coffee table and staring at it with a grimace, “Nothing specific, but if there’s anything to find, it’s in this book.”

Michael looks up at him with curious eyes, “What is it?”

Taking a seat on the couch, Sam picks up the book and places it in his lap. He opens the front cover and sighs as he slips through the first few pages, “It’s a very old history book. It used to be locked away in the palace library. Either this is a copy, or Emmett went through a lot of trouble to get his hands on it,” Sam explains, his eyes glossing over the first page of words.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he waits for Sam to say something more. When he doesn’t, Michael sits back down on the couch and glances down at the page that Sam is reading, “I thought we needed a spellbook. Why do you think this book will have what we need?”

“Because there are a lot of spells in Hiraeth history that we don’t use anymore. I practically lived in that library. and I wasn’t allowed to read this book because some of the old spells in here are forbidden. They were invented during a time of rebellion, and they haven’t been used since. That’s why it’s in a history book instead of a spellbook.”

Michael looks back up at Sam in astonishment, wondering how much Sam knows about the history of Hiraeth. He wonders how many things Sam is keeping from him. He pushes those thoughts away and tries to focus more on the task at hand; getting to Avery. If this book is going to tell them how, Michael can forget about his other worries for the time being.

“Alright, so let’s get reading,” Michael says, clapping his hands together in mock - enthusiasm. 

Sam looks back over to him, raising an eyebrow, his lips turning up into a teasing smile, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the only one reading.”

Michael glares, reaching forward and taking the book from Sam’s lap, “I can do just as much Hiraeth research as you can,” he says, ignoring how ridiculous the sentence sounds coming from his lips. 

Sam nods, and Michael doesn’t understand the grin on Sam’s face as he looks back down at the page, “Oh, so I guess you know the Hiraethian language, then?”

Michael blinks in confusion, looking down at the book and actually focusing on the words in front of him. He huffs as he sees the odd scribble - like letters that fill the entire page. Grumbling, he throws the book back onto Sam’s lap. 

As the minutes pass, Michael’s irritation fades into anxiety as he watches Sam read page after page. After a while, he can’t stand sitting anymore, so he gets up to pace around the room. He watches as Sam’s expression goes from angry to worried to confused as he absorbs the book, completely unaware of Michael’s mood. He mutters words under his breath occasionally, and each time Michael feels the slightest bit of hope, before Sam inevitably turns the page again, a look of disappointment on Sam’s face. 

Once twenty minutes go by, Michael walks out of the room, needing to do something other than watch Sam read a book that may or may not help them get to Avery. He walks into the kitchen, placing his hands on the counter and closing his eyes. He takes three long, deep breaths, trying to clear away the nagging concerns in his mind. He begins counting in his head, hoping that this will trick his brain into thinking he just took his medication. Since he always counts after doing that, maybe it will work. After a whole minute passes, Michael gives up. 

His eyes fall on the glass of water he had earlier, and he gratefully picks it up. He takes a few sips, and the cool water seems to calm his nerves the tiniest bit. He gives in and walks back into the living room, wanting to know exactly when Sam finds something useful. 

When he looks at Sam, however, he sees that he’s no longer looking down at the book. He’s looking at the coffee table, worry written all over his face.

Michael rushes over, setting his glass down and taking the seat next to Sam, “What? what’s wrong?”

Sam hesitates, meeting Michael’s eyes with a discouraged look, “I know a way we can get to Hiraeth.”

Michael’s heart does a nervous flip, but he presses forward anyway, his hand grabbing Sam’s arm, “Tell me!”

Sam sighs, setting the book down and fully turning towards Michael on the couch, “It’s not a spell exactly. I mean, it’s magic, but…” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling in frustration.

“But what? What is it?” Michael asks impatiently.

“A lot of times, children who don’t even know about magic get to Hiraeth because the magic they’re born with overtakes them,” Sam begins, settling in for a long explanation, “Because of how young they are, they don’t have the natural protection that keeps their magic at bay when they don’t use it. It sort of… explodes out of them. That burst of energy has teleportation properties, and it takes them to Hiraeth. It’s a really messy form of magic.”

“Okay, so what do we have to do?” Michael says, ready to do whatever he needs to do.

Sam stares at him incredulously, “Michael, it’s very dangerous. That much magic, uncontrolled, can be deadly. Some of those kids… they don’t make it to Hiraeth. 

Michael swallows hard, trying to not understand what Sam is trying to say, “Can we use it or not?”

Sam opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He huffs, brushing his fingers through his hair and sliding them down his face in frustration, “I guess we’re older and we’re less likely to get hurt, but-”

“So we can!” Michael interrupts, knowing that if he hears more about the risks he’ll psyche himself out, and that can’t happen, “We can get to Hiraeth.”

“Michael, it’s still dangerous, “ Sam says, “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I have to get to Avery,” Michael says with finality, but his voice is much softer as he takes in Sam’s expression. 

Sam sighs, his eyes closing, “I know,” he says in defeat.

“Okay, so we’re doing this,” Michael says, his nerves seeping over into his voice. When Sam opens his eyes, Michael sees the fear there, and he rethinks his statement. He doesn’t want to see Sam like this, and he really doesn’t want to force Sam to do something he doesn’t want to do. Even if the thought of somehow doing magic by himself terrifies him, Michael says, “Or, you can tell me how and I’ll do it.”

Sam’s eyes go wide with and his jaw clenches, “No! You’re not going alone.”

Michael starts at Sam’s reaction and for a second he can’t find his voice. He waits for the anger to leave Sam’s expression before he mutters a quick, “Okay.”

Sam takes a breath, an apology written in his eyes. His voice is soft as he says, “I’m not letting you get yourself killed, okay? I said I was going to help, so that’s what I’m doing. We’re in this together.”

Michael smiles the tiniest bit, eternally grateful that his attempts to push Sam out of his life didn’t work. At the time, it felt necessary. But now, in the mix of everything going on, Sam is the only person Michael wants to be with. Guils swims up in his head as he thinks about the sacrifice Sam is making. A sacrifice he’s making for someone who’s been cruel to him. This is a debt Michael can never repay, and it almost makes him rethink the whole plan. He almost denies Sam’s help and forces him to say how to do this spell alone. Almost. 

Instead, he bites his tongue. Michael  lets Sam guide him towards a task he never thought he would have to complete. Michael has had to get his little brother out of trouble before, but Avery has really done it this time. This time, this might be the kind of trouble that has casualties. Michael isn’t going to let Avery be one of them. 

  
  



	9. Interruption

Once he knew that he was going to do it, and Sam was there to make sure he went through with it, Michael insisted on being told about the history of Hiraeth. He wanted to know why the book Sam had gotten was under lock and key, and why no one was allowed to read it. Michael was curious about why the spells were forbidden, and how they came about in the first place. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t making a huge mistake by throwing himself into magic he doesn’t understand. 

This had taken them most of the afternoon. Michael had learned many things about the creation of Hiraeth; How it all started with a girl named Lois who had magic over all of the elements. She had been castaway, and in a deep, lonely depression, she built Hiraeth with her own powers so she could be happy. Once Sam started to get deep into detail, however, Michael had to stop him. He couldn’t handle the strange information all at once, and they had more important things to do with their time.

Now, they sit side by side in Michael’s car, driving further away from the crowded city mile by mile. Michael’s hands clench the wheel tightly, his knuckles going white as the silent tension between Sam and him escalates in time with the sun going down. He keeps glancing over at Sam, pondering what could be going on in his head. When the silence becomes too loud for Michael to handle, he has to break it.

“So, why do we have to drive so far away again?” he asks. He remembers, but it’s the first simple question that popped into his head, and at least it can get a conversation going.

Sam turns his face away from the window, and Michael sees that his face is still lined with the wariness of their plan.

“This kind of magic sets of a wave of energy. A big one. It’s basically an explosion of pure magic, and I don’t want anyone in the near vicinity when we do it,” Sam explains through a sigh.

“Right,” Michael mumbles awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.

Luckily, Sam continues after a few more seconds, “This kind of magic isn’t going to be easy for either of us to use.”

Michael furrows his eyebrows, “Why not? I mean, I know why not for me, but why for you?”

“Because,” Sam starts, his voice tight with irritation, “It’s completely unpredictable. It’s unfiltered magic. It’s the energy that creates a spell, but it’s not together yet. Everything is separated and it- it goes everywhere.”

Michael nods slowly, trying to visualise what Sam is describing. He’s never seen magic before, unfortunately, so it’s difficult, “Okay, I’m new at this, so sorry if this is a stupid question, but why is it hard to do?”

“I’ve been using magic sing birth,” Sam says, sounding a bit miffed, “I was trained how to control my magic when I was 6 years old. I can’t just forget about that. It’s like…” he trails off, trying to think of a good comparison.

“Like what?” Michael urges impatiently.

“It’s like learning to walk again. This is magic that children who don’t know anything about magic use. Can you forget how to walk?” Sam turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

Michael glances at him, almost wanting to laugh at the look on Sam’s face, “I don’t think so.”

“Exactly.”

Michael waits for more, but Sam only sighs again, his face going from exasperated to pensive to irritated all over again. 

“Well, then I should be good at this, right? I’ve never used magic before,” Michael says in an attempt to lift Sam’s spirits a little.

“Maybe, if I hadn’t just told you about it. Subconsciously, you’re going to be trying to do something right. That’s now how it works.”

“So how does it work?” Michael insists.

Sam’s eyes fall on the window again as he thinks over his answer. Michael’s about to ask again when Sam begins to speak, “We have to completely give up control. We just have to let the magic out without putting any real effort into it. We can’t force it, it just has to come pouring out of us. It sounds easy, but trust me, it’s not going to be.”

As the car ride continues, another silence falls over the two of them. Michael tries to ignore it; instead trying to focus on the task at hand and Sam’s explanations. Unfortunately, he has too many explanations of his own on the tip of his tongue. Ones that have nothing to do with magic, or Hiraeth, or even Avery. He has tried to explain the distance he had to put between Sam and him before, but it came out all wrong. He wasn’t able to explain it right, but now he thinks that maybe he can. Maybe he can put his words together so that not only will Sam understand, but will also forgive him. 

Michael keeps his eyes forward, knowing that if he looks over at Sam again, the words will come out and he’ll have no hope of stopping them. As much as he wants it to be up in the air, he knows that it’s a remarkably horrible time to do so. After he knows that Avery is out of harm’s way, then he and Sam can have that conversation. For now, instead of focusing on the explosion brewing in his head, he has to focus on the very real one that’s about to happen. 

* * *

 

Avery lays in the grass, staring up at the sky with his head resting on his hands. A content smile rests on his face as he soaks in the differences of this world and his own. At first, Avery hadn’t noticed that the sky was a variety of colors; what with all the other things he wanted to see. Now, he sees that although the blue is still the majority, lavender weaves through it. It blends effortlessly in, painting the sky in a purple hue, almost as if it’s the aura surrounding the clouds. The clouds themselves are tinged with pastel yellows and pinks, forming cotton candy-like puffs. For the last hour, he’s been taking it all in, truly appreciating the dazzling sight.

Now, he moves his gaze down to where Emmett is sitting with his legs crossed in the meadow near the trees, his hands touching the bark. Tiny vines spread from Emmett’s fingertips, curling and tangling as they move upward towards the taller branches. Dots of red flowers bloom from the vines as they move. As he watches, Avery feels the familiar feeling of gratitude swell in his chest. Gratitude for bringing him to Hiraeth; for showing him this whole other life. For being something good in a whole world of bad. It’s not the first time he’s felt it today, but it is the first time he’s felt something else creep up in his mind at the same time.

A sense of unease tugs at the back of Avery’s mind, and he furrows his eyebrows, turning away from where Ememtt is practicing his magic. He racks his brain, trying to think of any reason he should be feeling the nervous stomach ache that’s slowly taking over his contentment. Glancing at Emmett again, Avery wonders if he should say something; maybe there’s some sort of strange magic side effect. Before he gets the chance, however, the voice in the back of Avery’s head gives him an answer.

_ A whole other life. _

According to Emmett, Avery coming to Hiraeth doesn’t mean the same thing it would mean for anyone else. It isn’t just lounging around in Emmett’s backyard, discovering spells for the first time. As he was taking in the flowers and the shops and the strange people all around him, Avery has been pushing away a huge detail that he didn’t want to think about: He’s a royalty.

He’s supposed to be going to the palace and meeting the kings and queens. Instead of traipsing around the town, Emmett was supposed to take Avery straight to the castle doors. Avery is supposed to be a prince of Hiraeth by now. Instead, he’s been fooling around with Emmett and setting fires to kitchens. 

Avery swallows back a lump in his throat, picturing the looming castle he had seen yesterday. It had glared down at Avery, making him feel like he was two feet tall. It almost seemed to be mocking him with its tall towers and glistening bricks. Thinking back to it now, Avery feels foolish for even considering that he could be an important part of this world. This incredible, utterly beautiful place. 

But, apparently he is. That’s the whole reason Emmett had spoken to him in the first place. That’s why he had grown up with Dan instead of with his parents. That’s why he and Michael were raised together; that’s why they’re best friends. Brothers.

Avery cuts that thought off, guilt overpowering everything else. He tries not to think about how he abandoned Michael back in New York without any explanation.  _ He’s better off,  _ Avery thinks, his heart sinking when he realises the truth behind this,  _ he doesn’t need to look after me anymore. He deserves to live his own life.  _

Avery sits up, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. He backtracks, going back to his thoughts about the castle. As much as it scares him, he knows he has to see it. Not just the walls, but the inside. He has to meet the people he was supposed to grow up with. More than that, he wants to hear about the things he was supposed to do. He wants to know what it means to be a prince and how that title could ever fit into his life. Mostly, he just wants to know if it’s real; if it’s possible that Hiraeth is the world he belongs in. 

He peers at Emmett, just in time to see the vines disappearing back into his palms. Emmett pulls away from the tree with a satisfied smile, his eyes still trained on the leafs above him. Feeling Avery’s gaze on him, he turns with an eyebrow raised, the proud expression lingering on his face.

Avery smiles a little, but it’s not convincing. Emmett squints, already sensing that something is wrong. Emmett pulls himself off of the ground, taking the few steps towards Avery before throwing himself back down. He lays just as Avery was before with his hands behind his head. He looks up at Avery curiously, the unspoken question in his eyes. 

Avery meets his gaze, considering his options. If he says nothing, he and Emmett can go as they have been. Emmett could show him around Hiraeth some more, and they can practice more spells. If Avery really wanted, Emmett would take him back to New York right now and Avery could forget about all of this. Of course, he doesn’t want to do that, but he knows the option is there. 

“What is it?” Emmett asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

Avery sighs, leaning back against the grass. Absentmindedly, he takes Emmett’s closest hand into his own, “I’m conflicted,” he admits quietly.

Emmett raises an eyebrow, “About?”

“About going to the palace,” Avery murmurs, barely above a whisper. The words seem odd on his tongue. 

For a moment, Emmett is very quiet. He watches Avery’s face carefully, reading the nervousness and curiosity there. There’s something else there as well; a sort of determination that Emmett doesn’t quite understand.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Emmett reiterates, giving Avery’s hand a gentle, comforting squeeze. 

Avery turns, his eyes back on the sky as he takes a deep breath, trying to think of a good explanation, “It does make me uncomfortable. Actually, it’s really terrifying. But, it’s also something I have to do.”

“Avery-” Emmett begins, ready to tell Avery that there’s nothing that he’s going to be forced into, no matter what anyone else says.

“Not because of what the kings and queens might have said,” Avery cuts him off, with a reassuring smile, “I have to because this is my history. I have never known anything about where I come from, or who my parents are. I’ve been living in the dark my whole life, and I’d like to know the full story. I want to know what my life could’ve been,” As he finishes, his voice is only a small whisper.

Emmett bites the inside of his cheek, now feeling conflicted himself. The whole reason for bringing Avery here was to do exactly that; show him what his life would've been. But, not that it’s up in the air, Emmett finds that he doesn’t want to do that. He doesn’t want to give up what he has with Avery, and that might have to happen if he takes Avery to the royalties. Although, he doesn’t have any reason to believe that; it’s not like they can hide Avery away forever and keep him from ever leaving. That wouldn’t be right. Avery has his own life to live, and they wouldn’t take that away from him. Still, Emmett feels like he’s going to lose something really great if he does this.

That’s not his choice to make, however.

Emmett forces a smile onto his face. He brings their joined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of Avery’s hand before letting them fall back to the grass, “Okay, let’s do it.”

* * *

 

Michael drove all the way out of the city, and far into a heavily wooded area that’s away from any houses or roads. He drove down a dirt road for a while, and when it came to an end, he pulled over to the side. The farther away from home they got, the more anxious Michael seemed to get. He jumped out of the car immediately, barely giving the car time to turn off before marching forwards into the woods. Sam was quick to follow, making sure Michael didn’t do anything to get himself hurt. 

It wasn’t long before they came across a small, meadowy area inside the forest, and Sam threw his bag down on the ground to signal that this is where they should stop. Michael impatiently waited for Sam to drag the heavy book out, and this is where they have been for the last two hours. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” Michael yells, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“That’s kind of the point of this; you’re not supposed to know what to do,” Sam says, narrowing his eyes a little.

“Thank you, Sam. Very helpful,” Michael snaps, turning to glare at him. 

They’re both sitting on the ground, their hands locked together so the form a circle between them with their arms. Sam has been muttering under his breath for the last hour, apparently trying to get their magic to explode out of them like he said it’s supposed to. Michael has had his eyes closed in concentration, trying to assess if he’s feeling anything different. So far, there’s only been small waves of a new feeling that were greatly drowned out by his other worries.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be doing a spell,” Michael says pointedly, throwing Sam’s hands away from him and folding his arms across his chest, “What are we even doing?”

Sam’s jaw tightens, too tired to put up with Michael’s attitude, “I’m trying to do this safely. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Is safe going to take us to Hiraeth?”

“It might keep us alive. We can’t save Avery if we’re dead.”

Michael huffs, trying to hide his alarm at Sam’s bluntness. It has been a very long couple of hours, so he should expect it, “This is taking too long! Tell me what I have to do.”

Sam throws his head back in annoyance, taking a couple of deep breaths. Then, he turns back to Michael and reaches his hands out again. His lifts his eyebrows, almost challenging Michael to cooperate. Michael glares, unwillingly taking Sam’s hands again.

“Okay,” Sam sighs, “There’s not much I can tell you. The magic is inside of you, you just have to recognise it and be able to let it out.”

Michael rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, like it’s so easy.”

“Try,” Sam barks, then closes his eyes to do the same thing. 

Michael shuts his eyes, trying to search his mind for something that in anyway resembles magic. His thoughts reject the idea; his whole life he’s relied on logic and science for his answers, this just feels wrong. He tries to push past that, but it’s very difficult. The only solid thing he knows about his magic is that he’s hydrokinetic, which apparently is a fancy word for control over water. But, he doesn’t know what that would look like or feel like. He can’t picture anything concrete, so it’s hard to focus on.

His mind begins to wander, drifting towards Sam’s hands entwined with his own. He wants to ask why it’s necessary for them to be holding hands like this, but he knows now isn’t a good time. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, trying again to find the feeling that Sam keeps talking about. 

“You’re not concentrating,” Sam mutters, and Michael’s eyes snap open.

“Yes I am!” Michael says in annoyance at Sam’s assumption.

Sam meets his gaze, “If you were trying to use your magic, I would feel it. I’m trying to form a connection, but I can’t if you’re not trying,” Sam explains, gesturing towards their joined hands. 

“You’re not exactly helping!” Michael snaps, dropping Sam’s hands and getting up off the ground. He begins to pace as words com tumbling from his lips, “I’ve never used magic before! 48 hours ago, I didn’t even believe in it! 48 hours ago, I was just Avery’s concerned brother who wanted to know what the hell was going on with his new friend. Now, I’m wrapped into saving his ass and I don’t even know where he is! Yeah I know, Hiraeth or whatever. But that means nothing to me! None of this means anything to me! Dan never said two words about his stupid, fairy tale life-”

He continues to rant, and Sam watches him with his eyes squinted. Suddenly, he gets an idea, and he stands up as well. He stares at Michael, knowing just how unsafe this is, but there doesn’t seem to be any choice. They don’t have time to go over the basics of magic, and Michael is too stubborn to have a rational conversation about using uncontrolled magic. He doesn’t understand it, and he’s not going to figure out in the brief time that they have.

Sam steps forward, gripping Michael’s shoulders and forcing him to come to a stop. Michael glares up at him, his mouth opening to probably spew out an insult of some kind.

“You’re mad, right?” Sam asks in a rush, looking deep into michael’s eyes.

Michael scoffs, “Of course I’m mad! Am I being too subtle for you?”

Sam ignores the attitude, “I want you to use that. Magic is instinctual. Let yourself get defensive. Let your anger overpower you.”

Michael stares back at him, wanting to say something he’ll know he’ll regret later. He’s so over talking about magic, and Sam is right. He  _ is  _ angry. Very angry. Instead of saying something cutting, he shuts his eyes again, focusing deeply on his anger. He brings forward every thought he’s been trying to drive away from himself; everything he doesn’t want to feel. He focuses on it now, letting it energise him.

_ Emmett driving Avery to a panic attack. Avery running away and disappearing. Sam forcing Michael to confront his feelings when he’s not ready to.  _

The thoughts continue, and he starts to feel it. He feels it deep inside of his heart; like waves slowly building in the ocean. He feels it growing and growing, slowly starting to consume him.

_ Being unable to help Avery with his depression. Avery having depression at all. All of their happiness being taken away. Because of Dan. Dan decided to take his own life, and he left them there. He left Michael and Avery to clean up after him. He forced them into this strange new life and didn’t even bother to give them any warning. He’s gone, and now there’s no one left to help Michael or Avery. He’s gone. He’s dead. _

The crashing waves move through him, rocking him. It flows towards his fingertips, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He screams as it leaves him; not because of how it feels or because it scares him, but because he’s so goddamn mad he can’t stand it.

In the back of his mind, he feels Sam’s hands again joined with his. He feels a different sort of magic colliding with his own. It does exactly what Sam said it would do; it explodes out of him. As it does, Michael no longer feels like he has solid footing on the ground. He gasps, trying to open his eyes and pull the water back inside of himself, but he can’t. He can’t even find himself. He feels like he’s rocketing away from the world, and he has no way to get back. The only thing he has is Sam’s hands tightly clutching his own, and he holds on. He grasps them so tightly that it’s going to hurt later, but he doesn’t care. Because now, he has nothing left to hold onto. 

* * *

 

As Avery walks down the cobblestone pathway towards the palace for the second time, he’s too far in his own head to notice the beautiful energy around him. He barely even notices Emmett walking next to him. If it weren’t for Emmett taking his hand at the beginning of the walk, Avery would probably get very lost. 

This isn’t unusual for Avery; in fact it happens more times than he would care to admit. For most of his life, he has lived inside of his head, and he liked it that way. It’s easier for him to be happy if he doesn’t focus on his own life too much, so he never did. It wasn’t until he found his brother dead in their apartment that he finally started paying attention.

Still, it’s easy for him to get consumed by his own thoughts. Even now, surrounded by glowing people with magic flowing all around them, animals running around the street with strange gifts, his own thoughts are so distracting that he can’t pay attention. 

“Are you alright?” Emmett’s voice cuts through to Avery, and he blinks back into focus.

Avery glances around for a moment, trying to register where he is, but he gives up immediately when he realises that street names wouldn’t tell him anything. He turns to Emmett, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Your hand is shaking,” Emmett says quietly, gently squeezing Avery’s fingers.

Avery glances down at his hand, and he blushes a little in embarrassment, “Sorry, I’m just a little…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish.

Emmett waits, but Avery doesn’t know how to phrase what he’s thinking. Emmett nudges Avery with his shoulder, “What are you thinking about?”

Avery takes a breath, looking around instead of meeting Emmett’s gaze as he speaks, “I’m just feeling… really insignificant, I guess. I’ve never been here before. I mean, I guess I was born here, but that doesn’t count. I don’t remember anything about this place. But this is… this was Dan’s home. This is  _ your  _ home. You know these people. So did my brother. I don’t know anything about this place. I don’t know how I could possibly be a prince.”

As he reads the fear in Avery’s eyes, Emmett wants to pull him into a reassuring hug. He holds back because of the people around them, but he does circle his thumb across the back of Avery’s hand, “I know confusing; probably really disorienting. But, the whole prince thing, it’s inside of you. It’s the magic that you have that makes you a prince. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or what you know. You’re a prince by nature.”

“That just…” Avery shakes his head at the ground, “doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Why not?” Emmett asks curiously, trying to find anything to help better explain how the royalties of Hiraeth work. 

“Because how can anyone be anything by nature?” Avery suddenly says with more intensity, finally meeting Emmett’s eyes, “Personalities, sure, but not skills. Isn’t that what this whole thing is based on? Magic skill? I don’t have any skills in magic. The prince- or king- or whoever should be the person who has the most skill over their magic. Or, if we’re talking about what royalty should be, it should be the people who know how to rule a kingdom fairly. I don’t fit into those categories.”

Emmett stops walking, pulling on Avery’s hand and forcing him to turn to face him. Avery stares at him in bewilderment, seeing Emmett’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Avery blushes again, realises that his jaw is tightly clenched and his words are coming out harsher than intended. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. A small, sheepish smile forms on his face as he waits for Emmett to say something.

Seeing that Avery has settled, Emmett tries again to explain, “The royalties are based on whoever has the most connection to the magic in Hiraeth. You just happen to be the person who can tap into more fire magic than anyone else here. Besides the king, of course. If you focus, you can feel all of that power inside of you. You’ve done it multiple times now.”

Avery sighs dramatically when Emmett looks at him expectantly. Laughing a little, Avery closes his eyes, again searching for the magic deep inside his chest. It only takes a second; he pulls the flame forward, letting it course through his body. It sends a jolt down his spine, alighting the nerves on his arms and legs. He doesn’t push it further than that, but he does let it build. He wants to see just how much energy he can form inside of himself with the strange flame. It’s not like he could possibly know if it’s more powerful than anyone else, but it does feel incredible. It makes him feel like he could do anything. 

Avery gasps as his magic suddenly snaps back to his chest and a different feeling begins to course through his mind. Tiny wisps of pressure press against his thoughts, and his eyes fly open. As if commanded by the unfamiliar new energy, his eyes flash towards the other side of the town, landing on the forest far behind them. The pressure seems to whisper to his magic, and everything inside of him suddenly wants to move towards the forest with no explanation as to why. It’s like there’s something there that he needs, and only his magic knows what it is.

Avery tightly grips Emmett’s hand, his voice alite with burning curiosity, “What is that?”

‘What?” Emmett asks, turning in the same direction as Avery. When he sees nothing, he looks back at Avery with furrowed eyebrows, “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing, I- I feel something,” Avery says, unable to really focus on Emmett now.

The pressure grows and shifts, and it’s now pressing against his chest. The whispers are quickly getting louder, begging Avery to move where his magic wants him to go. He steps forward hesitantly, and then suddenly he’s unable to stop. It’s only Emmett’s grip on him that forces him to realise what he’s doing.

“Where are you going?” Emmett asks, his voice sounding more urgent and worried than before. 

A flash appears in Avery’s mind, and for a fraction of a second he sees deep inside the forest. He sees the shimmering green streaming down, darkened by the thick display of leaves above him. He can practically feel the dirt under his feet, and he can smell the same odd sweetness of Hiraeth nature that he smelled earlier in the day. 

He snaps back to the street just as quickly, and his eyes widen. He turns back to Emmett in a rush, “It’s Michael! I- I can feel him. He’s here!”

Avery takes off running, ripping his hand away from Emmett and focusing only on his feet heading in the direction of Michael. He doesn’t know why or how, but he can sense that Michael has come to Hiraeth and he’s somewhere in the forest. He can’t slow down to question what he’s feeling; his magic won’t let him. It pulls him forward, desperately wanting to reach Michael. 

He doesn’t get very far; Emmett catches up with him and grips both of his shoulders, forcing him to stop. His eyes are wild, and he tries to tear himself away, but Emmett doesn’t let go.

“Avery, stop! Let me explain. I know what you’re feeling right now!” Emmett pleads, trying to make eye contact, hoping to break the trance that Avery is under. 

“But- he’s here! Why is he here? I have to find him! I have- I have to talk to him or- I don’t know! I just have to-” Avery tries to string together words, but he’s gasping for air. There’s so much pressure on his chest, and he knows it won’t go away until he finds Michael.

“Listen to me, this is another one of those prince things! It’s not usually this strong, but it’s probably just because you’ve never felt it before,” Emmett tries again, putting his hands on the sides of Avery’s face and forcing Avery to look away from the forest.

Avery has to blink many times to focus on Emmett, but he forces himself to, “What are you talking about?” 

“Princes and princesses can sense each other. If they’re looking, they can see where the other is. You were focusing on your magic and you probably accidently honed in on Michael. Probably because of how close you two are. It doesn’t surprise me that you’re sensing him this intensely, actually,” Emmett says, and it takes a lot of Avery’s energy to really focus on him.

“But what is he doing here? He has to be lost- or scared! I have to get to him, Emmett!” Avery says, his feet preparing to run again.

“Avery!” Emmett whispers harshly, demanding Avery’s undivided attention, “You have to calm down right now.”

“Why?” Avery asks, taking the que to whisper and trying not to get irritated with Emmett. 

Emmett looks towards the woods, his jaw clenching a few times before he can speak, “Because he’s probably not lost. He’s with Sam. That’s the only way he could possibly get here. Those idiots came for you.”

Avery doesn’t let himself take time to process that last part, “Okay, and? What’s the problem? I still have to find him. Let’s go!”

“Avery, Sam is banished,” Emmett says, his words barely above a whisper, but still intense, “We can’t just go running after them and draw attention to ourselves. If people know he’s here, he’s in trouble. Michael is in trouble. We’re in trouble. We have to be very careful about our next move.”

Avery repeats the words a few times in his hide, trying to make them make sense. He fights against the pressure in his chest, begging his feet to stay in place. He tries to force a deep breath, but it’s hard to do with so many other things to think about. 

“Okay,” Avery mutters, his voice tight, “So what do we do?”

Emmett bites his lip nervously, looking away from Avery to scan their surroundings. A few of the passersby’s stare at them with dumbfounded expressions, probably wondering why someone is having a meltdown in the middle of the road. Luckily, most people haven’t noticed, and Emmett was able to get Avery calmed down in time. If they had accidentally caused a scene, there would be no doubt they would be followed right to where Michael and Sam are.  _ That pushy moron,  _ Emmett thinks as he pictures Sam getting Michael involved in all of this just to drag Avery away from Hiraeth,  _ Why can’t he just leave well and good alone?  _

Emmett takes Avery’s hand again, beginning to walk at a normal pace in the opposite direction of where they were originally headed. Clearly, Avery’s plans to visit the royalties have been forgotten. Avery walks slightly ahead of Emmett, unable to move quite that slow. Emmett keeps a strong grip on Avery’s hand, though, so it at least won’t be easy for him to go running off again. 

Subtly doing another scan of the people around them, Emmett is glad to see that everyone has moved on from Avery’s strange behavior. Now, they just have to get down the pavement and into the woods. Emmett is looking forward to hearing how Sam spins another story of wanting to protect Avery and Michael by somehow dragging himself  _ and  _ Michael to Hiraeth. As if he’s not putting Michael in so much trouble just by standing next to him in Hiraeth. 

Emmett glances at Avery, wondering how exactly one person can drag Emmett into this much potential trouble. He sighs as he trudges forward, knowing there’s no way that he can do anything harmful to Sam now. Avery wouldn’t like it, especially not when Michael is here now. Emmett doesn’t seem to be able to control his need to make Avery happy now. 

* * *

 

Far off in the distance, veiled by the protection charm placed on the castle, a guard sits on top of one of the tall pillars of the palace. His back is pressed against the taller perch next to him, and his empty lunch bag is precariously shifting in the breeze, ready to fall into the abyss at any second. 

Not for the first time today, the guard has to force his eyes back open. His job is not exactly interesting; watching over the town square, looking for any unusual activity. Mainly, he’s supposed to be searching for any disturbance so that the royalties can solve it as soon as possible. This is Hiraeth, however, and nothing interesting ever happens in the middle of the town. Usually, this particular guard uses his shift to catch up on his book. The sight tool that he’s been assigned remains unused day after day.

Now, the hum of the tool resting on his lap catches his attention, and he looks down at it with furrowed eyebrows. He sighs, wondering if there’s another fire incident to report. Probably another singed ponytail, nothing worth running to the kings and queens. He puts his fingers into the grooves of the object, closing his eyes tiredly and waiting for the view of the square to appear in his mind. 

When it does, it’s first shock and then confusion he feels when he doesn’t see anyone on fire, nor anyone trapped in a ball of water; the usual suspects. Instead, he sees a boy running through the street, his hair a shocking shade of red and his eyes wild. That one is quickly stopped by a different boy, but the rest of the kerfuffle doesn’t hold the guards attention. It’s the red hair and the shockingly familiar green eyes that makes that leaves the guard suddenly breathless. 

He has seen those eyes before. He’s seen that same hair on members of a long dead family. The Brooke family. This boy has the same green eyes as Daniel Brooke and his mother, Genevieve Brooke. 

The guard quickly exits the vision, hastily stuffing the tool in his pocket and jumping down to the roof of the castle tower below him. He’s been read this description many times; the description of Avery Brooke. The missing prince. Is it possible that he could be running through the town square? How could he be here without anyone else noticing? 

The guard rushes towards the stairs on the other side of the roof, trying to recall the protocol for approaching the royalties with news. What wonderful news this might be; he might even get a promotion.

_ The missing princes of Hiraeth coming home,  _ The guard chuckles to himself,  _ That’s a story that will be told forever.  _


	10. Tell-Tale Heart

As soon as there is no way anyone can see them, Avery is running. His feet pound against the grass as he moves towards the woods, and the strange sensation in his chest only grows more intense. Emmett is right on his heels, trying to regain Avery’s attention with no luck.

“Avery, what’s going on? What do you feel?” Emmett asks not for the first time, trying to get an understanding as to why Avery is unable to calm down.

Avery just ignores him. He continues to run, tears stinging his eyes. When he reaches the edge of the wood and passes through the first trees, the pressure on his chest suddenly eases, and he nearly collapses against a tree. He takes in huge mouthfuls of air, leaning his back again the same tree and putting his hand over his heart. He continues staring into the woods, still wanting to keep moving despite his magic suddenly letting up.

Emmett quickly joins him, confusion on his face as he skids to a stop, “What’s wrong?”

“Why is he here, Emmett?” Avery whispers, his cloud of emotion catching up to him. A tear spills over his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away.

Emmett’s face softens, “I- I don’t know. I didn’t think Sam would take him here. He said he never wanted either of you here. I… what’s wrong, Avery?”

Avery looks down at the ground, closing his eyes as shame washes over him, “I just… I’ve been trying not to think about Michael. I didn’t want to. I feel so guilty for making him so miserable for months. I didn’t want him to have to take care of me anymore. I just wanted to give him some time to be happy,” his voice is shaking, and he takes a second to clear his throat, “But, now he’s here and I have to think about it. And I have to see him, and I have to explain why I left, and I- I just can’t.”

Emmett pulls Avery into his arms, a lump forming in his throat as he listens to Avery’s shaking voice. He holds him tightly, unable to use words to comfort him. There’s no way he’d be able to say anything good.

“This place- it’s so weird. Why are the princes and princesses connected like this? Why did I- why did it feel like that? I was so scared and… why did it ease up?” Avery mumbles against Emmett’s chest, his mind far too jumbled for his liking.

“I honestly don’t know. The royalties like to keep stuff like that locked up in the palace. I only know the little bit that I told you. What exactly were you feeling?”

Avery thinks back to the pure panic he was feeling only a moment ago, and he notices how it still lingers in the back of his brain. He can still feel the pressure wanting to pull him deeper into the forest, but the intensity is gone. The fear is gone. 

“It was like my mind was already with him, but my body wasn’t. That’s how I know it’s him, because it’s like I’m there. But, I’m- I’m not,” he shakes his head in bewilderment, pulling away from Emmett and looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Emmett purses his lips, his eyes scanning the looming forest before them, “Do you know where he is exactly?”

Avery’s eyes follow Emmett’s, and he shakes his head, “No, but there’s this feeling in my head. It’s really focused, and it’s pulling me towards where he is. I feel like a compass,” he grumbles. 

“I thought the feeling went away?” Emmett asks, feeling uncomfortable not knowing everything about what’s happening to Avery right now. He’s usually more on top of things, but of course hanging out with a prince is gonna come with some curveballs. 

“No, it’s still there. Just the intensity went away. It felt like it was crushing me,” Avery says, his voice small.

Emmett throat tightens as he thinks about Avery trying to pull himself away while they were still standing in the town square, “I’m sorry,”

Avery looks up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, “Don’t be. I’m glad you didn’t let me go running off like that. If either of them get in trouble because of me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Emmett sighs, “Well, let’s go make sure that doesn’t happen. We better find them quickly.”

Avery nods, his stomach flipping as he thinks about Michael in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, alone and terrified. Of course Sam should be with him, but still. Everything about coming to Hiraeth is disorienting. There’s no telling what Michael is going through right now. 

Avery lets out a shaky breath, as he stares into the dark forest. Suddenly, the unusually shaped flowers, and the green hue shining off of the leaves doesn’t seem so inviting. The warm browns of the dirt and tree bark doesn’t seem like a fairy tale. It seems strange and very easy to get lost in. In theory, following the compass in his head should work out fine. But, not even Emmett knows anything about it. Who knows if it even works the way they expect it to?

Avery feels something brushing against his hand, and with a jolt he sees Emmett’s hand next to his. Avery glances up to see Emmett looking at him with an odd mix of negative emotions on his face. Avery gratefully takes his hand, happy to have someone to hold onto. 

“Alright, let’s do this,” Avery says with forced eagerness, as if he didn’t just have a small breakdown about not wanting to do this at all.

Emmett chuckles humorlessly, “I guess you’re leading the way.”

* * *

Michael has fallen before. When he was little, he would often roll out of his bed while he was sleeping, and the impact of hitting the floor would wake him up terrified. Sometimes when he’s sitting at his desk doing work on his computer, he’ll lean too far back in his chair and he’ll fall backwards. The fall is always the scariest part, yet it’s always very brief. Once he hits the floor, the fear slips away and he’s left feeling only embarrassed.

A couple years back, when Michael was 15 years old, Dan had wanted to do some traveling for the summer. Although most of the trip is a haze of laughter and singing very badly in the car, a specific moment sticks out. They had ended up in Virginia, and Avery wanted to see Tinker Cliffs. Michael was already wary about it because he didn’t like the idea of being so high up in the air, but he wanted to go for Avery’s sake. Looking down at the world from the cliff; that’s when the fear of falling was so real to Michael. All he could do was imagine himself falling. Endlessly falling. There would be no hitting the floor and getting back to his feet. He would fall and fall and fall until hitting the ground inevitably killed him. After that, he had begged Dan to take them home. He had never felt that kind of fear before that moment. 

Now, he’s truly experiencing that fear all over again. Except, this time it’s not just in his imagination. He’s not just picturing what it would be like to fall from that cliff. Now, he can feel the air whooshing past him as he falls through the sky. Somewhere along the way, he lost hold of Sam, and now he’s completely alone. He’s falling through space for an immeasurable amount of time and he’s completely alone. 

He wants to scream; to curl into a ball and sob until there’s no tears left inside of him. He wants to do something. Anything would be better then the emptiness that he feels around him. But for some reason, he can’t find his limbs. He’s completely blind, and his body feels miles away. He has no idea when he’s going to hit the ground, or if he ever will. Something could have gone terribly wrong with the spell, and he could be lost here forever.

_ It’s my fault. I did this. I forced Sam to show me how to do this, and I was too impulsive. I should have waited for him to find a better option. Now I’m stuck. Is Sam stuck here too? Is he falling just like I am right now? _

Michael tries to find his arms so he can reach out to Sam, but there’s no way. He can’t do anything. He’s completely useless. Sam might be just as lost as he is and Michael would have no way to help him.

_ No!  _ Michael screams in his mind.  _ This can’t be happening. We’re going to Hiraeth. We have to get there at some point. This is just the process.  _

He doesn’t feel hopeful, but he forces the words. He begs himself to believe them. He’s not ready to be gone yet. He has so many things he has to say still; so many things to make up for. He wants to tell Sam so many things. Not just about why he’s been such a horrible person, but about everything. About life, about how much he cares about Sam, about anything!

And Avery… Michael can’t leave Avery completely alone. Both of them have lost so much, he can’t make Avery lose one more person!

_ I’m not dying today!  _ Michael tries to scream the words, but nothing comes out. He let’s them rock through his mind, though. He absorbs them and forces them into his beliefs. He has too many important things to do; there will be no dying. 

As if by sheer stubbornness, Michael starts to feel himself again. His mind seems to snap back into focus, and suddenly he can feel his arms and legs at his sides. As if he was slowly waking up from a dream, he slowly feels his back resting against a flat surface. No, it’s like the surface was slowly rising to meet him. It’s like the ground caught him before he could hurt himself.

As soon as he can feel the air against his face, Michael sucks in a huge breath. His hands move against the dirt beneath him, and he digs his fingers into the soil. How disorienting; the feeling of falling was so real and yet, here he is. Laying across dirt. It’s almost like he never left home, except there’s a strange smell in the air. It’s like he decided to lay in a meadow of flowers.

He moves his arms, trying to find the flowers around him, but his hands find nothing. The smell seems to be only in the breeze. The light, comforting breeze that makes the warm air all to amazing against his skin.

_ This can’t be home,  _ Michael decides. It never feels this good in New York. And, it’s winter time. Shouldn’t it be colder?

Michael realises that his eyes are still closed, but he hesitates before opening them. This place isn’t going to be his home. It’s going to be a strange universe full of… something. He doesn’t know. He hadn’t thought to ask about what Hiraeth would be like before they left. From what Sam already said about it, Micahel already decided that it wasn’t a place he wanted to be at for long. So, what is he going to see when he opens his eyes? 

He takes a deep breath, letting the rest of his senses have a moment before, finally, his eyes slowly open. And he finds himself staring at the tops of trees. He almost feels silly, because he was just in a forest. Had he even moved? But, no, there’s something different about these trees. The color of them seems just a little bit wrong. The sight is just a little bit too bright for a heavy forest like this one clearly is. 

This forest also just happens to be a little bit too beautiful.

Michael’s mouth pops open as he takes in the view. Even the tree bark has an astonishing mix of browns and greys, twirling together to make a perfect painting. As he stares, Michael feels something inside of himself. Like the click of a button, he suddenly feels the connection he has to this place. With his palms in the dirt, he can feel the power swirling beneath the surface. He feels the magic surrounding the air; he sees it in the colors around him. Even more astonishingly, he feels it inside of himself. He can feel the waves of magic gliding underneath his own skin, daring to dance with the molecules of water underground. Again, his fingers dig into the dirt. 

“Michael?” Sam’s ragged voice sounds from nearby, and Michael tenses. 

Michael’s eyes come back into focus, which is weird because he hadn’t realises he’d been dazed. He pulls his hands away from the dirt and drags himself into a sitting position. He notices that his body actually is sore, and it actually does feel like he had crashed onto the surface.  _ Weird.  _

Michael turns, and he instantly finds Sam a few yards away, dragging himself into a sitting position with what looks like far too much effort. A grimace is on his face as if he’s in a lot of pain, and Michael’s heart plummets.

Shooting up from the ground, Michael ignores his own muscle fatigue as he races to Sam’s side. He stumbles a little as he goes, but it’s not long before he’s kneeling back down on the ground beside Sam. His hands hover above Sam, unsure of what to do if there’s any injury.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Michael breathes out, his eyes snapping to meet Sam’s

Sam falls back against the dirt as he looks up at Michael’s worried expression. He smiles a little, and he reaches up to touch Michael’s cheek automatically. Relief floods his expression, as if he’d been worried that he’d never see Michael again. Michael can hardly blame him, because he had been thinking the same thing when he had been falling.

“I’m fine,” Sam says, his hand falling against his stomach, “It was just a rough landing. How about you?”

“I’m okay. I feel… weird. This place is…” Michael trails off, moving into a relaxed position and looking at the dazzling trees around him, “Where exactly are we?”

Sam doesn’t answer at first. He unwillingly tares his eyes away from Michael’s face and looks around at his surroundings He pushes himself off the ground, and slowly gets to his feet. Michael does the same, watching as Sam’s expression grows more and more disdainful. 

“Hiraeth,” Sam finally mutters, “We’re… in Hiraeth.”

Michael hesitates, wanting to let Sam have his moment, but also having many more questions, “Right. So I gathered,” he says pointedly. 

Sam turns back to him, his face more pale then it had been a moment ago. His jaw is tightly clenched as he says, “This is Pirr Forest. It seems like we’re pretty deep into it to. That might be a good thing though, because I can’t exactly be seen by anyone,”

At first, Michael listens to Sam talking. After a second, however, he begins to realise a strange pin-prick in the back of his head. He reaches his hand back to see what it is, but he finds nothing. At the same time, a strange pressure starts building in his chest, and without understanding why he whirls around, expecting to see something behind him. He places a hand over his chest, taking in a breath to try to erase the all too familiar feeling. Although, it’s not entirely the same as when his anxiety starts to build. It’s still unpleasant, but the pressure isn’t all consuming. For some reason, he wants to connect the pressure with the feeling in his head. It’s as if it’s trying to tell him something. But, that wouldn’t make any sense.

“You feel it too?” Sam asks, his words bringing Michael back to where he’s standing.

Michael turns to face Sam again, furrowing his eyebrows, “Feel what? What is it?”

“Focus on it. I think you’ll figure it out,” Sam says vaguely, his eyes on the same point in the distance that Michael had been focused on.

Michael grits his teeth at that answer, but then closes his eyes. The pressure in his chest escalates suddenly, and he spins on his heel again. His mind begins to scream at him, telling him to walk forward. To  _ run  _ in the direction it’s telling him to. For some strange reason, he already knows where this path will take him. It’s like something inside of himself is telling him;

“It’s Avery,” Michael whispers, taking a step forward, “Wha- what the hell is that?”

“All princes and princesses of Hiraeth share a connection. We can sense each other. If we need to, we can find one another by just thinking about it. I was trained how to focus it, but I know how it feels when it’s happening for the first time. Are you okay?”

Michael’s breathing becomes quick and he takes more steps into the forest, trying to stop the screaming in his head, “I don’t know. I- I can feel him. I- I have to find him.”

“Hey,” Sam says, taking hold of Michael’s arms and turning him so they’re facing each other again, “That’s just you magic connecting with Avery’s. It makes you feel like you’re not okay, but you are, I promise. So is Avery. In fact, I bet he’s feeling the same thing as you. You both are so attuned to each other that it’s going to be powerful, but you can turn it off. You can turn off the intensity, you just have to force yourself.”

Michael stares back at him, his eyes wide and distracted. He tries to calm him breathing down, but it’s never been something he’s good at. He feels his heart start to pick up pace, and tears form in his eyes, “I- I’m panicking, I-”

Sam quickly  wraps his arms around Michael, and Michael buries his head in Sam’s chest. A new sensation begins to spread through his body, and Michael gasps at the feeling. It’s the same thing he felt when Sam first used magic on him, and he welcomes it. He lets the coolness seep into himself, driving away the anxiety. He stays there wrapped in Sam’s arms until all he feels is the pressure in his mind pointing him in the direction of Avery. The pressure in his chest slowly lessens, and he’s able to take a normal breath. 

“Thanks,” Michael says sheepishly as he pulls away from the embrace.

“Anytime,” Sam says with a barely-there smile, before his eyes turn towards the forest once again, “Okay, we have to start moving. We don’t want to be here for long, so we better get to Avery quickly. If he’s feeling the same thing you just did, I’ll bet he’s making his way to you as well. If… if he can.”

Michael’s eyes flash up to Sam’s, “If he can?”

Sam hesitates, then he says, “If he’s at the palace already, I don’t know.”

Michael’s jaw sets, and he turns towards the area of the woods his connection to Avery wants him to go, “Let’s go, then.”

He starts moving before Sam can answer, and his quick pace makes it necessary for Sam to jog and catch up. Sam grabs Michael’s arm again, slowing him down a little. Michael almost complains, but when he sees the cautious look in Sam’s eye, he stops himself. Sam isn’t looking at Michael; he’s looking around the forest as he walks at a slow pace, seemingly trying to look out for any danger around them.

Michael keeps pace with him, scanning the woods as well. He squints, but he sees and hears nothing except for Sam and himself. He peeks up at Sam a couple of times, just to see if the on edge expression ever lets up. It doesn’t. Michael sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trying not to speed up. All he wants is to do is run until he has Avery in his sights, and then drag him away from this place as quickly as possible. Not that they have an exit strategy, but that’s something to think about later.

“Can’t we go a little faster?” Michael asks after a few minutes of tension filled silence has passed.

“No, we have to be discreet,” Sam says, never taking his eyes off of the path in front of them.

Michael sighs, “We’re in the middle of a forest. It can’t get much more discreet than that.”

Sam looks down at him, his eyes tight, “I was banished, remember?” he says, and the words make Michael suddenly feel a few degrees colder, “We have to be careful.”

Michael’s eyes find the floor, “Right,” he mumbles.

He tries to not think about it; the fact that Sam was banished. It just reminds him, however, that being here is entirely Michael’s fault. He’s the one that’s forcing Sam to help him rescue Avery. If it weren’t for Michael, Sam would be safely in New York right now. He wouldn’t have to be watching his every move. Not only that, but he wouldn’t have to be putting himself at risk to protect Michael. Scowling, Michael kicks at the dirt as he walks, again and again frustrated at himself for having to make this decision. 

Glancing up at Sam again, Michael realises that he wants to know so much more about Sam’s time in Hiraeth. After thinking he was going to die, or just be falling for all eternity, Michael wants to know everything about him. He knows now that he can’t keep pushing Sam out of his life. Even after they get Avery and they all go back to New York, Michael can’t stay away from Sam. He craves Sam’s company too much. Michael hadn’t realises how intense his feelings for Sam really were until he thought he was going to lose him.  _ Figures,  _ he thinks, inwardly rolling his eyes.

Michael bites his lip, questions wanting to roll off of his tongue as he watches Sam’s expression. He tries to keep quiet, but he just can’t help himself, “What happened?” he asks, and then immediately blushes a bright red when he hears the desperate tone in his voice. He has never felt awkward about asking Sam questions before, but now things are so different between them. There’s a whole universe of difference. 

“Hm?” Sam responds, his mind obviously still very distracted.

Michael hesitates, wondering if it’s a good time to be having a heavy conversation.  _ Now or never,  _ he decides, “With you. How did you get banished?”

Sam glances down at Michael, his eyebrows furrowing, “Haven’t I already told you that?”

Michael thinks back, and then shrugs, “You said they were scared of you. I don’t understand what that means.”

Sam’s eyes linger on Michael’s face for a moment before he turns back to the trees. Michael doesn’t miss the clench in Sam’s jaw.

“Sorry,” Michael says, his eyes casting down to the floor, “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sure it’s a hard topic.”

“No,” Sam says, his voice apologetic, “I’ve just… I’ve spent so much time trying to forget about Hiraeth. About my past. I’ve built a whole new life for myself. I like to think that it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Michael considers this, looking back up at Sam while puzzling over his response, “But, it does matter, Sam.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, and Michael quickly continues, “I mean, yes, you’ve moved on and that’s really good, but you’re back here now. I know that you never wanted to be, so I think it’s important that you talk about it. Keeping things inside never ends well. Trust me, I know.”

Michael holds his breath, hoping he’s not coming off pushy and rude. He doesn’t want to force Sam to do anything, but he really does think that Sam should talk about this. It doesn’t have to be now, or even with Michael necessarily, but he should get it off of his chest. 

Sam purses his lips, not seeming to be upset. The look on his face is indecisive and full of the pain that Michael wants to understand. Michael’s chest tightens when he sees the look on Sam’s face, and he racks his brain for a way to make it disappear. 

“When I was a child i was like you,” Sam starts unexpectedly, and Michael feels his heart pick up in pace, “ I was a prince of Hiraeth. Besides the queen, I had the most powerful magic out of everything else here. I still do, I guess,” Sam sighs, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “I loved being a prince. I loved learning everything there was to know about magic and the history of Hiraeth. I always had so much fun.”

“Wait, I have a question,” Michael sheepishly interrupts Sam funny launching into his story, “Why did Avery and I have to leave when we were babies but you got to stay?”

“I didn’t get to stay, I had to,” Sam says, his mind years away from this moment, “I was four when you were born. I already had magic training, so I was fighting in the war,”

Michael’s eyes widen, “When you were four?” he asks in astonished horror.

Sam smiles at Michael sadly, “Anyone with any developed magic had to fight. Yes, I was only four, but I was also a prince. I was very powerful, even then. I didn’t know what I was doing, I just did what I was told.”

“Oh, that seems… horrible,” Michael mumbles, his voice small as he tries to picture what a war must have been like for a toddler.

“I haven’t even gotten to the banishment part.”

“Right. Okay , go on.”

Sam pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing on with his story, “So, I was being trained with the princess Eva. She has Earth magic, like Emmett. She was one of my closest friends. Actually, she was sort of my only friend. We had to train much harder than previous royalties because you and Avery weren’t here. But, that didn’t matter to me. I didn’t think of it as training. I was just enjoying learning, which is why I was such a good prince.

“The problem was, I didn’t just want to learn about magic. I had many other interests that had nothing to do with ruling Hiraeth one day. I wanted to know about history and science. I wanted to know what made plants grow and stars shine. I wanted to absorb every book that was ever written to gather as much information as possible. I always got books for my birthday.

“When I was a teenager, naturally I got more rebellious. I wanted to experience things rather than just read about them. I wanted to see the rest of the world. I wanted to see and do everything. I got myself into all kinds of trouble because I kept missing training sessions. In my defense, it was very easy to miss training because we were literally never  _ not  _ training. As much as I loved learning about magic, I wanted so much more than that. I didn’t understand exactly how angry this made the other royalties. Nothing ever happened to me; I got yelled at a lot, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t until I started learning about Earth that I got into real trouble.”

Sam’s voice trails off, and a darkness clouds his expression. Michael’s throat tightens, and his breathing falters as he tries not to imagine what could bring such a hopeless look in Sam’s eyes.

“One night, I was coming back to my room late,” Sam starts again, his voice barely above a whisper, “I had snuck off to the portal room. It was the one room in the palace that could take us to Earth. They don’t keep the small portal devices in there; it’s like a portal tube that’s about the size of a closet. It’s actually the portal that took you to Earth when you were a baby. I was trying to figure out how it worked. I wasn’t going to just run off, but I was curious. I hadn’t had any luck, so I just decided to go to bed and try again the next day.

“Eva met me in the hallway. I could see the fear in her eyes, but I didn’t think anything of it. She was always so worried about what the royalties had to say. She took their warnings so seriously. She told me that the kings and queens wanted to talk to me. I figured I would just yelled at like usual, but… the way Eva said it, it gave me pause. My mind started to race. I almost… I almost turned around and ran out of the castle. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say. Sometimes, I still wish I had,”

Sam’s voice breaks, and he has to clear his throat multiple times before he can continue, “They told me a lot of things that night. I didn’t understand a lot of them until I was already long gone from Hiraeth. They told me that I didn’t have what it takes to be a king of Hiraeth,” his words come out like acid, “I didn’t know how to take things seriously. At first, I just felt like I was being chastised by my parents, but it was so much more than that. They told me that kings don’t have room for extracurricular activities; that is was wrong for me to explore everything, and even to read all of my books. And then-”

Sam stops walking all together, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Michael walks around to face him, his heart aching with the need to help Sam. Michael takes Sam’s hands in both of his, trying to meet his eyes.

“They told me that my emotions were in the way,” Sam whispers, his eyes tightly closing, “They said that is was their responsibility to make me into a king, but the feelings inside of made that impossible. They could have just told me that I needed to focus. They could have just told me the dangers, but they didn’t. Instead, they decided to punish me for something I couldn’t even control.

“They brought me to the same portal room, and at first I didn’t even understand what was happening. They told me I was being banished for betraying Hiraeth and everyone there. I was so confused; I didn’t know what they meant. The next thing I knew… they were sticking a needle full of magic into my neck. It- it stripped me of my emotions. My soul. Then, they pushed me into the portal and sent me to Earth.”

The words slice through the air like a blade hitting Michael square in the chest. His next breath sticks in his throat, and for a second he forgets how to take another. He tries to digest the words that Sam has said, but his mind can’t make sense of them. 

“They did what?” Michael asks, his words barely audible. 

Sam only responds by meeting Michael’s gaze, his eyes shiny with tears.. Michael’s hands move up Sam’s arms, then move up to Sam’s face. A tear slips down Sam’s cheek, and Michael is quick to brush it away, his own eyes threatening to spill over.

“How long were you…” Michael starts, shaking his head as tries to understand, “Without any emotions?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam answers, his voice solum.

Michael’s mouth opens and closes, trying to remember how to speak coherently, “I don’t- I don’t understand. What were they trying to accomplish?”

“I’ve never had the chance to ask,” Sam says dryly, “My own assumption is that they didn’t realise how powerful the spell would be. They wanted to clear me of my curious nature so I could focus more on being a prince of Hiraeth. Maybe my banishment was supposed to be temporary and they would let me back when I saw things their way. I don’t know,” Sam’s tone takes on a sarcastic edge, and there’s a touch of fury burning in the back of his eyes. 

Michael’s hands begin to shake, and an icy feeling spreads through him as he continues to stare into Sam’s eyes. Without another thought, he throws his arms around Sam’s waist, hugging him tightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the tears he can feel welling up to stay put.

Sam’s heart leaps when he feels Michael holding on so tightly, and he’s so astonished that he doesn’t know how to respond. Then, his arms close around Michael and his head falls to the crook of Michael’s neck. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t even imagine,” Michael murmurs, unable to keep from feeling the pain that Sam is emanating.

“I’d never felt so betrayed,” Sam whispers, his voice much more steady not that Michael is in his arms, “And I couldn’t even feel the betrayal until… until it was over.”

Guilt pierces through to Michael’s heart, and he has to pull away from Sam. His eyes open slowly, and the tears spill over, “I’m sorry,” he mumbles again.

Sam furrows his eyebrows, seeing the change in Michael’s demeanor and expression, “What’s wrong? What are you sorry for?”

Michael swallows back a lump in his throat, and he has to force himself to look Sam in the eyes. Shame washes through him like ice, and it takes all of his strength to keep himself from completely breaking down, “They’re not the only ones who betrayed you,” his voice breaks, and more tears slide down his cheeks.

Sam shakes his head, reaching forward to take Michael’s hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but Michael is quick to continue.

“I left you. I just- I just left you there. That night. Avery called me, and I could hear the pain in his voice. I knew something terrible happened,” 

Understanding appears on Sam’s face, and then his face crumples as he listens to Michael speak.

“I should’ve have woken you up. Or- or called, or something. But, when I heard what happened, I just couldn’t. All I could think about was Avery and how much Dan’s death hurt him. I couldn’t even think about what I was feeling; all I wanted to do was take care of him. After that night, I couldn’t even look at you. I didn’t want to hear from you; I wanted us to be over.

“I felt so guilty because of what we had. I was always so happy with you. You were a part of my life that was just for me, and it felt so good. I didn’t even notice how miserable everyone else was in my apartment until Dan died. He- he killed himself, Sam. I didn’t want to be happy anymore. I couldn’t be. I had to make sure that Avery was happy, because I never did before. I was so caught up with you that I didn’t notice anything! I felt like such a horrible person.

“So, I didn’t reach out to you. I didn’t say anything. I hoped you would just move on and forget about me. I hoped that you hated me for leaving you without any explanation. As much as it was tearing me up inside, I wanted you to move on from us. I convinced myself that it was for the best. I was just there for Avery, and I forced myself to forget about everything else. 

“And then, there you were at my shop. I could see the torment on your face, and I knew it was my fault. I could see what I did to you, but I didn’t fix it. I kept trying to drive you away. And, now I don’t think it was because of guilt at all. I was so scared about how you make me feel. All of my old feelings came rushing back, and it terrified me. I didn’t deserve it; not with Avery being so broken. It wasn’t- isn’t just Avery. I’m broken too, Sam. Dan didn’t just leave Avery, and it hurts so damn much that he’s gone. Part of me is so angry, and I don’t know why, but I couldn’t just let it go. I didn’t want to. With you, I can let it all go. I can be happy, and I was scared. I’m so scared, Sam, and because of that I betrayed you. I was selfish; I didn’t want to know what I was making  _ you  _ feel.”

Sam stares at Michael wordlessly, too taken aback to think of words. Michael can’t read the look on his face, and he holds his breath as he waits for a response. Sam’s hold on Michael’s hands tightens, and he steps forward so that there’s only a few inches between them. Their shoes touch, and Michael’s heart beats erratically.

“Michael, you didn’t betray me,” Sam says, softly laughing. It’s an unhappy sort of laugh, “And you weren’t being selfish. You were taking care of your family, and I can hardly blame you for that. In a way, you were trying to care of yourself. Granted, you were doing it in the wrong way, but still. All I ever want to do is take care of you, and I’m sorry that I made things so hard for you. But, I have to ask you this,” Sam trails off, and Michael can feel the intensity burning behind his eyes.

Michael waits, still not letting go of his breath. His body reacts to Sam’s touch and proximity, and he realises how easy it would be to close the distance between them. He continues to wait for Sam’s question before making any decision. 

“You said you were scared. You said you’re still scared,” Sam starts, his voice small, “So where does leave us? Do you want to be with me? After everything that’s happened, have things changed at all? Or, do you still want to keep your distance?”

The words hang in the air, and Michael finally let’s go of his breath, shakily taking another. Usually, he would take a moment to sort through his options. But, he doesn’t want to anymore. For once in his life, he just wants to make a decision without agonizing over the problem. And, what problem is there, anyway? The thought of leaving Sam behind now makes him feel so bleak that he completely rejects it. What other options are there, really? There’s only one that will make them both happy. Michael doesn’t want to fight against his happiness anymore. He’s so tired of his fears and his anger. He’s tired of being miserable. 

Michael lets his other thoughts float away. He leans forward, his eyes automatically falling shut as his lips gently touch Sam’s. And then it’s like an explosion all over again; Sam’s hands find Michael’s waist, and he pulls him forward. Michael gasps at the pressure, his mouth opening. He throws his arms around Sam’s neck, his fingers curling into his hair.

The kiss is almost angry with their desperation, and the emotions of the conversation flows through it. Sam grips Michael sides, pushing his shirt up so Sam’s hands burn hot against Michael’s skin. Pleasure rolls through Michael, and he forgets about everything else except Sam. He memorises the feeling of their lips pressed together, the feel of Sam’s hair. The texture of Sam’s hands against his back. He loses himself in the kiss, letting the whole world drift away. 

For the first time in a while, light seems to find its way back to Michael’s soul. It touches him everywhere, making the weight of all of his problems float away from him. An overwhelming sense of joy fills him from head to toe, and he holds onto it. He doesn’t push it down like he did the small glimmers of the same feeling. He allows it to completely alter himself. He lets himself drown in it. 

Sam is the first to pull away, needing a moment to catch his breath. His eyes are full of wonderment, and there’s not a trace of the depression that had been there before. Michael grins up at him, feeling so much lighter than he has in months. Sam smiles back hazilly, one of his hands coming up to stroke Michael’s cheek. He leans forward, kissing Michael’s cheek in the same spot. Then, he moves back to Michael’s lips. Sam kisses him once, twice. Michael laughs a little, removing his hands from Sam’s hair and letting them rest against Sam’s chest. 

The distant crunching of sticks and leaves suddenly registers in Sam’s ears, and his eyes flash in that direction. He tenses, and Michael blinks in shock. Fear cuts through his joyous mood, and there’s a sudden distance between Sam and him. The world comes back in a rush, and Sam forcefully pushes Michael behind him as the sound begins to get louder. Michael peeks up from behind Sam, seeing his clenched jaw and tight eyes. With wide eyes, Michael turns towards the trees again.

Both of them had gotten too distracted. They hadn’t noticed that the magic that connected them to Avery was slowly disappearing. It didn’t register with them that this meant that Avery was getting closer. Michael had completely forgotten about their entire mission, and even now it doesn’t come back to him. Not until Avery is suddenly stumbling through the trees, pulling Emmett in tow behind him. Then, all traces of happiness leave Michael like a slap to the face. 

  
  



End file.
